The Little Moments
by katierosefun
Summary: [Whoufleé pairing.] An assortment of fifty Whoufleé moments and scenarios, ranging from humorous moments to angsty moments. Can be in the length of a drabble or an one-shot. Ratings may vary. To be updated daily. [Chapter fifty - Before making their last trip together, Clara and the Doctor decide to visit someone.]
1. Weakness

**Yay, Whoufleé stuff! Thank you for clicking in! First bit of this story is a drabble - next one will be an one-shot of a sort! I ****_did _****say that this Whoufleé story will be a mix of drabbles and one-shots, so hold tight! **

**Enjoy! **

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**Weakness **

Clara Oswald had small weaknesses for everything. A weakness for soufflés, a weakness for dresses, a weakness for anything that might possibly bring her back to her mother.

But there was one weakness that always, always, _always _came back to one person.

The Doctor.

Clara's Doctor. It didn't matter what he wanted or what he was going to do – Clara just _knew _that there was _something _inside of her that _always _wanted to be the one to help him, or be by his side, or perhaps, even, be the one to save him. And there _were _a few times in which the Doctor actually _confessed _that Clara was the one who saved him – perhaps in more ways that Clara understood, whatever _that _meant.

But either way, Clara kept those words close to her heart. Those words were precious to her.

So, yes, Clara had a weakness for the Doctor – not those odd, somewhat perverted weaknesses that some people liked to think of – of course not. But maybe a small weakness for the Doctor in Clara's heart – a small weakness that made her want to stay with the Doctor forever, that made her want him to never, ever change. A small weakness which forced Clara to run into his arms every time he appeared on Wednesday afternoons.

Clara hoped that maybe, her weakness might take her somewhere for good someday. And maybe, the Doctor might have the same weakness for her.

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**A/N - Maybe this drabble was a bit one-sided, but I hope you enjoyed it, anyways. :) **

**Reviews and follows and faves are highly appreciated! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not.**


	2. Bruises

**Hello, everyone! I'm back with another chapter - I ****_did _****say that this was going to be updated daily. ;) This isn't a drabble, as you can tell by the length of the content. **

**Enjoy! **

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**Bruises**

You would think that after traveling with the Doctor for a few weeks, one would get used to the multiple less-than-smooth landings that constantly occurred. However, Clara Oswald was _not _at _all _used to the bumpy rides on the TARDIS, even though she's been with the Doctor for some time.

Of course, that didn't mean Clara didn't _enjoy _them. Goodness, no, she liked most of the things about the TARDIS, besides the fact that it seemed to hold some sort of grudge against Clara. For one, she liked the sound the TARDIS makes whenever it lands in the Maitland's driveway.

But if there was another thing that _truly _annoyed Clara about the TARDIS, it was the odd landings which always threw her around the entire console room. She already had a few bruises all over her legs and middle, and most of the time, she kept them well-hidden. The Doctor didn't really know about the bruises, either, and anyways, Clara didn't want to cry over any of them or act overdramatic. For goodness' sake, that was the _last_ thing she wanted.

However, today, the TARDIS was having an especially hard time landing. It held the same exhilarant thrill but this time, Clara wasn't quite as prepared for it as she had been in the last few weeks. She was supposed to hold onto the console, but today, she let go of it too soon and sent herself flying against the doors.

The TARDIS came to a stop, though Clara's ears were still ringing with noise. She cringed, gingerly placing a hand over her back – there would be a bruise sporting there soon. Pity – Clara had figured that the last of her back-bruises were fading.

"Clara!" The Doctor shouted from behind the console. "You alright? I told you to hang on!"

"I'm fine!" Clara replied, brushing herself off and standing up. She cringed, twisting herself around to see if anything else might have been damaged. Her arm was a bit sore now, but Clara could deal with that. She tucked her arms behind her back as the Doctor came around the console.

"No broken bones, then?" The Doctor asked, giving Clara an up-and-down with his eyes. "That's good! Come on!" He trilled, grabbing Clara by the arm. Unfortunately, it was the sore one. She winced, and though she was _trying _to be subtle about the action, the Doctor paused.

He frowned and looked over at Clara, who now flashed him a guilty, slightly embarrassed smile. "I'm fine – let's go! We've got stars and planets to see!" She said, trying to mimic his enthusiastic tone.

The Doctor, however, wasn't smiling. He held Clara's arm up to his face and frowned at the few purple and green and yellow circular marks on the skin. "Bruises." The Doctor said, slowly dropping Clara's arm. "You've got bruises – how did you get bruises? Are you being treated alright at the Maitland's? Is someone hurting you? Are there more bruises? What happened?" He asked, wide-eyed. When Clara didn't answer right away, he threw his hands up in the air.

"Well? Answer me! Is someone hurting you?" The Doctor asked frantically.

"No!" Clara replied. "No, no one's not hurting me – the Maitland family is perfectly fine, yes, I have a few more bruises, and I got them because – because – _um_…" Her voice drifted off as the Doctor looked at her expectantly.

"Well?" He asked.

Clara sighed. "It's nothing – I'm just being clumsy. Very, very clumsy – it's like you said; you told me to hang on and I didn't and I keep getting a few bruises here and there. But besides that, I'm fine!" She added quickly at the Doctor's wounded expression. "I'll try to hold on tighter next time, yeah?"

There was a small, rather pregnant pause between the two.

Then, the Doctor slapped his hands together. "You're right." He said, grabbing Clara's hand. "You will." Clara gave him a quizzical, puzzled smile as he dragged her to the console. "What do you mean by that?" She asked as she placed her hands over the console's surface.

"We're going to practice. See?" The Doctor asked, placing his hands over Clara's. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart jumped into a faster-paced rhythm, though it wasn't a necessarily bad feeling. She could feel the Doctor right behind her. His arms were placed parallel to each of Clara's arms and his chin was hovering just over her shoulder.

Clara allowed herself a small smile. She didn't mind this position at all.

"Hold on!" The Doctor said gleefully and the TARDIS started to make its usual, cheerful, groaning, moaning sounds as it started up again.

This time, Clara didn't get any bruises.

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**A/N - As always, please review! I know that if you can hit that fave/follow button for two seconds, you can tell me what you think of this little installment in another two seconds. Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	3. Don't Talk to Me

**And I'm back with another update! I had loads of fun writing this chapter and I think you'll see it. XD **

**Enjoy! **

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**"Don't Talk to Me" **

Clara Oswald was leaning against the railing in the TARDIS when the Doctor walked back into the console room. He had been running around the place for a full thirty minutes – apparently, he was _looking _for something. Something he had lost, probably – though Clara knew as well as the Doctor that it would take some time.

"What are you looking for?" Clara asked as the Doctor ran around the console.

"A…something! I don't know, I thought I could use it, but it's gone and I can't find it!" The Doctor shouted, frustrated. He looked over at Clara and said, "Don't talk to me – it'll just be a distraction. For the love of – where is it?"

Clara blinked, crossing her arms. "A distraction?" She asked, puzzled. "Why would I be a distraction if I talk?"

"Well, I can't concentrate on finding anything with your lips opening and closing, can I?" The Doctor asked indignantly. "And I _certainly _can't concentrate if you keep looking at me –" The Doctor stopped abruptly. At Clara's lifted eyebrows, he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I should get back to searching for that thing…" The Doctor said hastily, fixing his bowtie and lowering his eyes to the ground.

Before the Doctor could run off again, Clara asked, "What do you _mean _you can't concentrate when I'm looking at you? Do I have something on my face?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," the Doctor muttered under his breath, trying to walk around Clara. She took a few steps back, though she didn't move away from her frontal position on the Doctor. "Why am I distracting you, Doctor?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips. "Go on – if there's something bothering you, I should at least try to see what I can do about it!"

The Doctor lifted his hands in the air, accompanied by a garbled groan of annoyance and frustration. "I – no, no, no, _no_, we're not having this discussion here – not now, anyways!" He grabbed Clara by the shoulders, trying to turn her around, though she didn't budge. You see, a small plan was beginning to take light in Clara's mind – a plan that, once executed, would leave an impression on the Doctor forever.

_Lips opening and closing…a distraction, you say_? Clara thought humorously to herself.

A sudden, sly smile flickered across Clara's lips. "Am I a distraction, Doctor?" She asked quietly. "Is that it?"

The Doctor stopped trying to move Clara. He looked down at her, eyes wide. A full-length, somewhat pleased smile was taking effect on Clara's face now. She took a small step towards him so that they'd only be a few centimeters away from each other. Clara could see almost every single detail of the Doctor's face – his eyelashes, a few freckles, and she could even properly look at the colors in the Doctor's eyes.

Then, the Doctor breathed out one, single word –

"Yes."

Clara smiled and reached down, taking a hold of his hand. Her other hand rested itself lightly over the Doctor's shoulder. Clara stood on the tips of her toes, her face almost touching the Doctor's. She leaned in and just barely brushed her lips against his. In the next second, she was back to the railing, casually fixing up her hair.

The Doctor turned to look at her, his eyes wider than ever. Clara smiled sweetly at him. "Well, Doctor?" She asked in the most nonchalant voice she could muster. "What are you doing, just standing there? I would hate for you to forget about your search." Clara placed her elbows over the railing, the same, lazy smile on her face. "What are you waiting for? Don't let me _distract _you."

The Doctor's mouth fell open. He quickly closed it and slapped a hand over his eyes. "You – stay there – don't talk to me – just – gah!" He walked over to Clara and poked a finger at her shoulder. Clara stared back at him, unfazed. She pursed her lips. "Now, now, Doctor – don't you think you should go back to looking for…whatever you were looking for?"

"Oh, that was _cruel,_ Clara Oswald," the Doctor retorted, turning back around on his heel. Clara gave a small giggle, causing him to look over at her again. She grinned and made a pushing motion with her hands. "Shoo!" She said lightly, though no one could miss the faint, sly note in her voice. "Maybe I'll be able to _distract _you after you finally get a hold of what you were searching for…"

"Can you – will you – no! Don't talk to me! Just stay there! Don't move!" The Doctor replied hurriedly, running out of the room and leaving a rather amused Clara Oswald to herself in the process. It appeared that she had succeeded in making herself a distraction.

_Oh, Doctor, _Clara thought to herself, shaking her head. _Good luck trying to look for that object now…_

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**A/N - As always, please review! I know there's more than two people reading this story and I would truly appreciate it if you can just spare two seconds of your time to tell me what you thought of the chapter would be great! Constructive criticism is always welcome, but flames are not. **


	4. Bribe

**Another little Whoufleé thing for you all. :) I suppose I should say this now - I'm not taking any prompts or requests, sadly, mainly because all of these chapters are basically prompts...ish. (A word or a phrase is given and I have to come up with a story-line...) **

**So, I'm sorry for those of you who wanted me to take requests - I really am. However, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! **

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**Bribe**

"Please?"

"For the last time, Clara, no!"

"Why not?"

"Because I said so!"

"That's hardly a proper reason," Clara scoffed, crossing her arms. The Doctor looked back down at Clara and replied, "Why would you want to go to the Doppler Galaxy, anyways? It's pretty, but there's so many more places to go and see and –"

Clara cut the Doctor off by saying, "It's just interesting! Seeing all of the other galaxies move and shift away from the Doppler Galaxy's point-of-view is rather unique, isn't it? You told me about it yourself, but we never got around visiting it and I _do _want to see it – Doctor, come on!"

Clara wasn't lying – she _did _want to see the Doppler Galaxy, even if it all really was just a bunch of other galaxies coming into visible light for it. But it really _did _sound beautiful – Clara remembered how back when she was in secondary school, she had learned about the colorful shifts of light that the galaxies made when they were moving closer or farther away. A blue shift, a red shift – at the time, Clara didn't really appreciate the colors, but right now, she wanted to see them for herself. It sounded wonderful – not to mention that looking at galaxies in _general _was amazing. All of those stars, those fragmented particles circling together in a great beam of light…

And Clara figured that what the Doctor wanted to show her would probably outrank the Doppler Galaxy, but right now, she just wanted to _see _it. She figured that the Doctor probably wanted to see it, too, but then again, he must be bursting with ideas for other places to see as well.

Clara just needed to give the Doctor a little _push _in that direction, which, thankfully, she was good at.

Now, the Doctor groaned, bringing his hands to his face. "Do you _really _want to see it that bad?" He asked tiredly. Clara threw her hands up in the air. "Yes!" She replied excitedly. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

"Don't shout!" The Doctor grumped, rubbing his ears. "That's supposed to be _my _job!"

Clara rolled her eyes. "Alright, fine," she said halfheartedly. "I'm sorry that I shouted – but will you take me there? Please, Doctor? Just for a few moments? I _know _you want to see other places, but it just sounds _so interesting!_"

When the Doctor continued to sit in his stubborn silence, Clara puffed out a small, exasperated sigh. "Do I _need _to encourage you?" She asked, placing a hand on the console and lifting an eyebrow. She pursed her lips together and crossed her ankles, already mentally preparing herself for what was about to come.

_And oh, you clever boy, just you wait…_

The Doctor looked over at Clara. "Eh? What's that supposed to mean?" He shot back, puzzled.

Clara smiled, slowly leaning against the Doctor. He stiffened, though he didn't bother moving away. Clara took that as a good sign. "Oh, come on, Doctor," she whispered into his ear. "Don't make me do this…"

"Do what? What _are_ you talking about?" The Doctor asked quizzically as Clara started to place her hands on his shoulders. She grinned and gently ran a hand through his hair. Clara leaned in and lightly planted a kiss behind his ear. "Are we going to the Doppler Galaxy now, Doctor?" She asked quietly, her breath just barely tickling a few strands of hair.

Already, Clara knew that she had won. She didn't exactly _like _to pull this sort of stunt on the Doctor, but it was fun every once in a while. Of course, Clara had an odd feeling that this sort of thing went along with her constant need to be the one in charge – but right now, she shoved all of those other thoughts aside. There wasn't any time for shame just yet.

The Doctor looked at her, stunned, although it didn't last for long. He blinked rapidly and started to tap his fingers along the console. "Doppler Galaxy, yeah?" He asked lightly. Clara simply grinned.

"Stop it," the Doctor said automatically, flipping on a few switches and racing around the console. "You keep doing that – do you _know _how annoying it is? It's almost as annoying as your typical, bossy –"

"Come on, Doctor! No time to lose!" Clara said in a sing-song voice, clinging onto the railings.

"I mean it! I really mean it! I'm _not _gonna be your lapdog! Or your pet giraffe!" The Doctor hollered as the TARDIS started itself up.

Clara laughed over the din, "Keep telling that to yourself, Doctor!"

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**A/N - Ergh, I'm not so proud of this chapter. Writing a flirty Clara isn't my strong point, but I hope you guys were able to enjoy this, anyways. I'm also sorry about the length - I wish I could have made it longer, but this prompt was tricky for me...but hey, people say that it's the quality that counts, not the quantity, right? **

_**Please**_** review! I know most people just like to hit the fave/follow button and be done with it, but it'd be great if you guys could spare two more seconds to tell me what you thought of the chapter. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but flames are not.**


	5. Sinner

**I'm not quite sure whether to label this chapter as a drabble or one of those one-shot things. Ah, well...this chapter/drabble was inspired by the song ****_Wicked Game _****by James Vincent McMorrow, which really is a lovely song. It gives me what I call the "autumn chills", or an autumn-y feel. I don't know. Maybe that's just me from listening to too much guitar or having too many rainy days. XD **

**Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this little bit, anyways! **

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**Sinner**

The Doctor didn't want to fall in love with Clara Oswald. He really didn't – whenever he fell in love with someone, endings would come. Someone would have to say goodbye at one point and something awful would happen. And the Doctor didn't want to see that ending with Clara – not her. He couldn't even promise himself that Clara wouldn't get an ending – he had said the same thing before – he had made that promise long ago – and it ended up getting broken.

So, what could the Doctor do?

Now, the Doctor was leaning against the TARDIS door, watching Clara walk out of the Maitland's house with her same, friendly, radiant smile. The Doctor couldn't help but to smile back – Clara always had that affect. Again, the Doctor didn't want to fall in love with Clara, but there was something about her that made it simply impossible.

Her doe-like, shining eyes, her witty remarks, her cheerful laugh, her bright attitude and even the negative parts of Clara attracted the Doctor in ways that he didn't think could ever happen before. There was River Song, of course – but she was gone, wasn't she? Just like everyone else, she was somewhere lost, away from him.

So, it wasn't considered wrong to fall in love with Clara, yes? He wasn't betraying anyone – he wasn't doing anything wrong. Falling in love with Clara Oswald did not mark him as a sinner.

"Oi, Chin Boy – come on, what're you doing, just standing there?" Clara asked, suddenly dragging the Doctor out of his thoughts. He looked down at her and straightened himself. "Ah, yes – come along, Clara! And for goodness' sake, stop calling me _Chin Boy_! It's not _that_ bad!"

Clara giggled into her hand. "Yes, _it is_." She replied loftily, twirling into the TARDIS. "Wednesday couldn't come sooner – the week has been just _dragging _on for me."

"Well, that shouldn't be allowed, should it?" The Doctor asked, closing the door behind him. Clara swiveled around, another delighted grin on her face. "You said it," she replied cheerfully. "Well, Doctor? Where are we going today? Another awesome place?"

"All of the places I show you are awesome," the Doctor replied, walking up the ramp. Clara grinned and gave him a playful poke on the back. "You know what I mean – you know what? Surprise me!" She said, leaning against the railing and crossing her arms.

"You won't peek?" The Doctor asked, grinning.

"Do I ever?" Clara asked, lifting an eyebrow and looked up at the ceiling. "Go on, Doctor – I'm waiting."

The Doctor allowed himself a small smile to Clara, though the girl didn't notice. Her eyes were still focused on the ceiling. The Doctor looked back down at the console and began to start up the TARDIS. No, it couldn't be a sin to love Clara Oswald – she had brought laughter and happiness into his life – something to strive for, something to live for.

And that was just what he needed.

The Doctor couldn't tell if Clara felt the same way about him _ever_. There were some days in which Clara treated him as a friend, or perhaps a younger brother (though that could never happen), but there were other days when the Doctor felt so much affection from Clara that he wanted to tell her how much he loved her, right there.

But for now, he would wait. At least, until he was absolutely sure that he wasn't a sinner or a traitor for feeling this way for Clara Oswald.

For now, he would tuck away his feelings until the time is right.

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**A/N - For any of those who might be wondering, I've never shipped River/Eleven. Ever. I love River Song/Melody Pond as a character - she really is amazing - but I always felt as though the Eleven/River pairing was a bit forced. :/ But if you happen to ship River/Eleven, or if you _have _shipped it before, I'm not gonna hate! *lifts hands* I'm not gonna start a shipping war!**

**As always, it would be great if you could spare two more seconds of your time to leave a review of a sort. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but flames are not. **


	6. Perfume

**And another chapter! I'm sorry to say that I'm writing on my iPhone, not my laptop, so there will be a few typos. The Wifi at my house shorted out, (and I'm not willing to check if the _Great Intelligence_ is offering to give me any Wifi...) and so I had to re-type this onto my phone. GAH.**

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**Perfume**

Clara Oswald was dead now.

Really, properly dead.

And it was all the Doctor's fault. _He_ was the one who brought Clara to the moon of Etta - _he_ was the one who allowed Clara to come with him in the ancient, Dalek-filled building - _he_ was the one who accidentally woke all of the Daleks - and last of all, _he_ was the one who was too late to save Clara.

So now, here he was, sitting in the TARDIS and cradling Clara's lifeless body in his arms. The Doctor brought his forehead down on Clara's, so the two would just be barely touching. One hand was holding Clara's hand, while the other lifted her head closer to him.

The strangest thing about grief was that all of the Doctor's senses seemed to magnify when he saw Clara. He could feel how smooth her skin really was, hear the slightest ruffle of her hair, and smell the faintest note of the flowery perfume that she always wore.

The Doctor didn't let to of Clara or her scent - he figured that if she was to be buried like every other human being, he could at least carry her scent with him wherever he would to. Certain parts of the TARDIS already smelled like Clara - some of her old cloths in the TARDIS still carried the same perfume, still carried _her_.

The Doctor didn't even like perfume before. He always thought it was unnatural, but Clara's perfume didn't smell like that - it smelled perfectly fine. Then again, that might have been the grief talking, but the Doctor didn't care. He wanted to cling onto the last memories of Clara Oswald...and keep them forever.

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**A/N - Obviously, this was a slight AU. I swear if Steven Moffat or any of the other writers of _Doctor Who _decides to thrust this fate on Clara, I'll freak out. :'( **

**As always, please review! If you could spare two seconds to hit the fave/follow button, I know you can spare ten more seconds to tell me what you thought of the chapter. Constructive criticism is always nice, bu flames are not!**


	7. Dice

**Huzzah for temporary Wifi and genius brothers! I can post this on my laptop! I'm not feeling great (sick - ugh...*flails*) so this chapter might appear to be a bit hazy and ****_out there_**** at some point. Or maybe not. I don't know, my brain goes funny when I'm writing in this state, as I'm sure that it happens to you guys, too. XD **

**Enjoy!**

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**Dice**

"If the dice adds up to the number six, you have to eat a spoonful of cat food."

"If the dice adds up to the number twelve, you have to do your best owl impression."

"If the dice adds up to the number two, you have to sing _What Does the Fox Say?_ with the dance."

The Doctor did all of those things, earning himself shrieks of laughter from the Maitland kids and Clara Oswald, which he simply adored. The Dice-Dare game that Angie prided herself in making was certainly causing everyone to get rather excited and hyped up with energy.

The game had only started about an hour ago – the Doctor actually wasn't supposed to visit Clara today, but Clara had told him that she needed his help and…well, the Doctor, being the person he is, decided to come along, anyways.

It was a rainy day, too – Angie and Artie Maitland were completely bored (which was dangerous,) so the only things Clara and the Doctor could do is keep them distracted until the sun could come out so they could play outside.

Now, Clara gathered the dice in her hands and shook them gently. "Well, everyone?" She asked lightly as she shook them around. "What's the dare?"

Artie tapped her chin with a thoughtful expression on his face. "If the numbers up to five, you have to go outside and claim that there's aliens falling from the sky." He said with a wide grin. The foursome exchanged sly, knowing smiles – they knew about aliens all too well. Angie snorted, propping herself up on her elbows from her position on the carpeted floor. "That's not _that_ bad of a dare – Clara could just talk about her alien boyfriend." She said loftily.

Clara rolled her eyes and nudged Angie with her foot. "Don't go on about that again!" She said and threw the dice to the ground.

_Four_.

"Ha, I don't get to do the dare, anyways!" Clara said triumphantly, handing the dice to the Doctor with a small smile. The Doctor returned it with ease, though Clara's comment bothered him a bit – was Clara really hesitant to agree that he was her boyfriend?

Not that the Doctor cared, of course. He wasn't anyone's boyfriend and this joke only started with the Maitland kids. If it weren't for them, then the Doctor and Clara would have never thought of the concept.

And Clara never really showed signs that she was interested in being the Doctor's _girlfriend_, either.

But _if _Clara _wanted _to be a girlfriend, the Doctor wouldn't mind at all. He would actually welcome the idea. But for now, the Doctor was confused in what to think. _Agh_, even after one-thousand-two-hundred years of traveling in time and space, he _still _didn't understand women and their ways.

The Doctor started to shake the dice, glancing back at Angie and Artie, who watched them with the same, delighted expressions that they had been wearing from the moment he walked into the house. He liked how they liked him – maybe Clara would be impressed.

_Stop thinking_, the Doctor chided himself as his eyes flitted back to Clara. She gave him a simple smile, encouraging him to continue shaking the dice. The Doctor cleared his throat and said in the loudest, most cheerful voice he could muster – "What's the dare, kiddos?"

Angie grinned, flattening herself against her stomach. "If the number reaches eleven, then you have to kiss Clara!" She giggled. Artie grinned sheepishly as the Doctor did a double-take. He blinked rapidly, his mind whirring with activity in how to answer. He stole a quick look at Clara, who was suddenly interested in the pattern of the carpet.

"I…have to _kiss_ her?" The Doctor asked, hating how squeaky and high-pitched his voice sounded. "Do you mean a cheek kiss? Or a forehead kiss? A peck? No?" He felt more and more distressed and anxious at each shake of head that Angie gave him.

"Well, if you think about it this way, you can't _possibly _get eleven on the first go, right?" Artie offered, giving the Doctor a sweet and somewhat reassuring smile. "So, it'll all be just fine!"

The Doctor puffed out a breath and turned to look at Clara again, only to shrink back. Clara was still making her point in not looking at the Doctor. She hummed quite a bit under her breath and she stood up. "I think I'm going to get myself a drink," she said quietly. "Erm…I'll be back in a minute."

The Doctor gave Clara a small nod and just like that, she was out of the room.

"Go on!" Angie said excitedly, pointing at the dice in the Doctor's hands. "Roll it!"

The Doctor sighed and, staring up at the ceiling, he allowed the dice to drop to the carpet. There were a few gentle rolls of the objects falling into place and then –

"_Eleven_." Angie and Artie said in hushed, surprised tones.

The Doctor ran a nervous hand through his hair, looking around the room. "Do I have to?" He whispered and Angie nodded frantically in reply. "I dared you to!" The younger girl said in a patronizing tone. "Therefore, you can't back down from it, even if you wanted to!"

Artie winced. "Good luck, Doctor!" He said, looking at the kitchen with a sympathetic shake of his head.

The Doctor puffed out a breath and stood up as slowly and quietly as he could – Clara would have to understand. This was just to please the kids. There wasn't anything serious going on, (even if the Doctor _wanted _it to be,) and the two would laugh about it over some Jammy Dodgers and tea in the later future.

Somewhat enthused by the thought, the Doctor walked towards the doorway of the kitchen and waited for Clara to come out. When she did, she was holding a cup of water in her hand. She looked at the Doctor and smiled. "I'm assuming you didn't –"

She was quickly cut off as the Doctor leaned forward, planting his lips over Clara's. He heard her make a small, surprised, stuttery gasping sound, but in the next second, she relaxed against the Doctor's body. She dropped the water cup (which was plastic, thankfully, so it didn't shatter when it came in contact with the ground,) and wrapped her arms around the Doctor's neck.

The Doctor couldn't really think after that – all he knew and felt was that _oh, Gallifrey, _he was actually _kissing_ Clara Oswald and it was because _Angie Maitland _dared him to.

He was vaguely aware of Angie and Artie cheering him on, though he didn't quite mind. The Doctor actually found it rather encouraging.

The kiss lasted only for a few more seconds – and then Clara broke away, her eyes wide and her breath coming out in uneven, short pants. There was a small silence between the two and then, Clara punched the Doctor on the arm. The Doctor cringed, rubbing the skin and asking, "What was that for?"

"I can't _believe_ you're only kissing me because Angie told you to!" She said crossly, making her way across the room and plopping herself in a chair. "Ugh! You could've done it before! Coward!"

The Doctor blinked, surprised. He looked at Angie and Artie, who shrugged in response. He took in a quick breath and planted another kiss on Clara's lips – this one was softer, gentler. The Doctor cupped a hand over Clara's cheek and left his lips over Clara's for a few more seconds before pulling away.

This time, (thankfully,) Clara didn't punch the Doctor. She stared up at him, a smile twinging on the corners of her lips. She sat back in her chair and tapped her fingers against the surface, her eyes trained on him.

"Better?" The Doctor finally managed to ask.

Clara gave a small, light giggle. "Better." She nodded.

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**A/N - I've played the Dice-Dare game before with some of my friends and ended up prank-calling my ex-guyfriend/boyfriend/a-big-pain-in-the-arse. So. Funny. We laughed for hours and hours after that. XD And if he's reading this, well...HIIIIII! **

**As always, review! Constructive criticism is always great, but flames are not!**


	8. Lord

**I think my phone ships Whoufleé, you guys - I had my songs on shuffle and it played Clara's theme and then it played ****_I Am the Doctor_****. And it was on ****_shuffle! _**

**My Wifi problem is still a bit wanky except for a few spurts of it from time to time from my brothers. Apparently, someone in my family decided that it would be a good idea to cut off the Wifi in the house until August 14th for reasons I cannot imagine. -.- And on August 14th, I'll be away for Cape Cod. I'll try to keep my updating schedule intact, though! **

**Enjoy!**

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**Lord**

The Doctor knew that Clara Oswald was pretty – of course, he never admitted it out loud. (And the one time that Cyber-self took over did _not_ count. It didn't matter, anyways. He denied everything he had said when Clara asked about it later.) There was something just about the way she _talked _or _walked_ that kept the Doctor's eyes trained on her. If Clara ever noticed, she never said anything about it, nor did she show any signs of annoyance. But the Doctor was slow to show any signs of attraction – naturally.

Until, of course, when the Doctor decided to bring Clara into one of the biggest open-air markets in the universe. (Literally – _open-air. On a cloud. In the sky._) Everything was supposed to be fine – Clara was excited, the Doctor was excited, there were loads of people, lots of new things to see…

And according to a certain man in the crowd of the market, Clara was a source of excitement. Which, of course, the Doctor did not like. It started in one of the stalls of the market which was selling flowers – and the Doctor wanted to buy one for Clara, who seemed to appreciate the gesture. And the Doctor felt good about it – he felt all warm and tingly and fuzzy inside…

And that nice and comfortable feeling lasted for approximately two minutes, when the flower seller gave Clara a small wink. He handed Clara the flower and said in a low, deep voice (which the Doctor immediately disliked), "A pretty flower for the pretty girl."

Much to the Doctor's annoyance, Clara giggled and lowered her eyes to the ground, casually flicking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Er…thank you." She said quietly, bringing the flower to herself. The flower seller grinned and leaned in on his elbows. "What brings you here? I don't think I've ever seen you before."

Clara shrugged and the Doctor felt another twinge of indignance – _hello, I'm here. Just in case you wanted to know…_

"I'm just traveling with my friend over here." Clara replied lightly, jutting a thumb to the Doctor. "We've been doing this for a while now."

The flower seller's eyes looked at the Doctor for the first time. He gave the Doctor something of a smile, though _grimace_ would be a better word. "Ah," he said slowly, sticking out a hand. "Nice to meet you..."

"Doctor. I'm the Doctor." The Doctor replied stiffly, giving the hand a small shake. "And Clara is my…" He struggled to find the words. Finally, he swung a protective arm around Clara's shoulders, earning himself a look of surprise from the young woman. The Doctor forced himself to avoid Clara's stare. "A very, very good friend who I've had for _very _long."

The flower seller lifted an eyebrow and turned back to Clara. "Well, if your very, very good friend would like to go out to a pub sometimes with me, I'd be more than –"

Just as Clara's mouth started to open, the Doctor interrupted hurriedly, "I'm sorry, but we must _really _get going. Our schedule is _packed _and we're not staying for long. Come along, Clara!"

Without waiting to hear the flower seller's response, the Doctor dragged Clara away from the stand and didn't stop running until they were a few yards away. When the two _did _stop, Clara asked waspishly, "What was that all about? That man seemed rather nice!"

"Rather nice? _Rather nice_?" The Doctor grumbled, turning around to look at her. "You knew him for _two minutes!_"

Clara tucked the flower behind her ear and, crossing her arms, said in a rather lofty, airy tone, "Well, that's usually how people get to know each other – talk for a few minutes, I mean, not talk for a few minutes and then get _pulled away_."

The Doctor adjusted his bowtie. "I was saving you from a bad mistake!" He argued. "He was probably only interested in…playing with you or something like that!" Clara lifted an eyebrow. "_Playing with me_?" She asked incredulously. "What are you, Doctor, five years old?"

A delicate blush was beginning to creep into the Doctor's cheeks and he flapped his hands around, exasperated. "Forget that – just – no. No, no, no, no! No more flower sellers or any other men for today!" He said frantically. Clara rolled her eyes and shook her head with a disproving cluck of her tongue. "Yes, _Father_," she mocked, walking ahead of the Doctor. "Or, yes, my _Lord_. Definitely wouldn't want to upset you, _sire_."

"No sarcasm, either!" The Doctor said sharply. "Promise me that you won't acknowledge any other men who look at you or treat you like that!"

Clara turned around, giving the Doctor a wide smile. "Well, then, wouldn't that mean that I would have to stop traveling with _you?_" She asked loftily. The Doctor froze in his tracks, wide-eyed as Clara walked up to him. She tugged his arm, shaking her head. "Come on, Doctor," she said quietly. "Let's go see more things."

The Doctor cleared his throat and looked down at Clara again. Her eyes were sparkling with humor and her smile was…radiant. Beautiful. God, she looked so beautiful like that.

"Promise that you won't talk to any _other_ men?" He asked, surprised to find his voice only barely louder than a whisper. Clara let out a soft laugh and standing at the tips of her toes, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Promise." She replied, and lowering her hand into his, started to tug him along. "Now, come on – you're supposed to be the one leading us."

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**A/N - I suppose this wasn't my best chapter, but...I tried. Ergh. **

**As always, please, please, please review! Constructive criticism is always allowed, but flames are not!**


	9. Applause

**New chapter - joy! And if anyone's still wondering, I'm trying not to take requests for this story, but if you ****_do _****have a request, I could either post it as a different story or I could try to fill the prompt in the word that it fits. :) **

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**Applause**

The Doctor prided himself in being a man of many talents. He was a decent cook, an absolutely fantastic baby-sitter, and rather good at riding a motorbike and football. There were some things that he _wasn't _very good at, though – writing, for one, (he got distracted too easily,) playing the piano (again, he got distracted too easily), and of course, _singing. _

_God_, the Doctor _himself _knew that he was absolutely _rubbish _at singing. That didn't keep him from humming or whistling or screaming random song lyrics at the top of his lungs, though. Then again, why wouldn't it? _Everyone _sings to him/herself, no matter how awful he/she is.

But never in public.

Ever.

However, here the Doctor was, standing at the front of a small, dimly-lit café and looking at the crowd with a blank expression on his face. The beginning notes of some-21st-cetury-song-that-he-couldn't-remember was playing in the background and the poor, poor Doctor was expected to _sing_ in front of all these people.

With a solemn sigh, the Doctor turned around to look at the screen behind him – white words were flashing on the screen now, followed by a yellow bar that seemed intent on highlighting the words. For the first thirty seconds of the song, the Doctor simply stared at the screen. What was he supposed to do again?

_Ah, what a mess…_

The Doctor wasn't even quite sure how he _got_ here – he was walking around the streets of Cambridge, Massachusetts with Clara in hand and suddenly, he was yanked into a café. Clara had said something about wanting to get a cup of tea and sadly, this was the closest place that served it.

At first, the Doctor didn't really mind with the abrupt pit stop. As long as Clara was fast with her tea, the Doctor was happy. The two would get back to walking around Cambridge in no time.

And that was when a woman in a pink, fluffy apron declared that karaoke was going to begin. Of course, only a few minutes later, the woman had dragged the Doctor up to the stage, declaring that he looked absolutely _adorable _with Clara and that he _must _sing for his 'beloved.'

So now, he was stuck here.

"Sing, you moron!" An annoyed voice yelled from the crowd, bringing the Doctor back to reality. The Doctor ran his hand nervously through his hair and turned back around.

"You're supposed to sing along with the words, sweetie." A woman from one of the tables whispered audibly. The Doctor managed a smile and flashed a feeble thumbs-up at the woman. He turned back around to the screen and started to sing in an out-of-tune, off-beat voice, "_Shine bright tonight…you and I are beautiful like diamonds in the sky!" _

He cringed at the lyrics and stared at them in bewilderment. Unable to help himself, he turned back around at the crowd and asked, "I understand the simile, but why would you –"

"This isn't a lecture hall, dumbass!" Another person yelled from the crowd.

"Oi! Who're you calling dumbass?" A familiar, indignant voice shouted back and the Doctor practically sank to his knees in relief, because Clara Oswald was standing on her chair and glaring at a young man with narrowed, angry eyes. "_You _can't call him that! Only _I _can!"

The music behind the Doctor came to an abrupt stop and a silence immediately settled over the café. Clara placed a hand on her hip and jabbed an accusing finger at the man. "And for the record, he was absolutely and utterly _horrible_, but I _bet_ he's better than you! And he has more manners! So, there!" She added with a huff, and she jumped off her chair.

The people were still quiet when Clara started to stomp her way to the Doctor. The Doctor, however, quickly broke that silence by clapping his hands together. "My Impossible Girl!" He beamed happily, bringing Clara to his side. He looked down at her and squeezed her hand.

Immediately, the room burst into a chorus of a_w_s and _how sweet_s and _isn't that adorable?_s. The Doctor looked down at Clara, bewildered, but Clara simply shrugged her shoulders. The Doctor grinned and planted a quick kiss at the top of her head, causing not only Clara to pink at the cheeks, but the crowd to erupt into an applause.

"Best performance ever!" An elderly woman cried, wiping tears from her cheeks.

Clara rolled her eyes, though she looked pleased. "Come on, Doctor," she said quietly, tugging at his hand. "Let's get out of here before everyone begins sobbing about us."

The Doctor gave her a toothy smile and allowed himself to be dragged out of the café. When the two finally _were_ out, the Doctor said, "Thank you for saving my life back there. I thought I was going to be mobbed by a bunch of unsatisfied karaoke participants."

"Ah, that'd be a bad way to die, don't you think?" Clara asked dryly, and laughing, she ran down the street. "Come on, Doctor – no more karaoke for you!"

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**A/N - Reviews are nice! I know that you can spare two more seconds to review if you can take a few minutes to read the chapter itself. So, reviews are always good, and so is constructive criticism, but flames are not. **


	10. Heart of Gold

**Aaand back with another chapter of this story! ANNOUNCEMENT - I ****_know _****I'm supposed to be updating this story daily, but starting on August 14th, I'll be taking a week-long hiatus from the Internet (and my electronics...) because I'm going to Cape Cod. :/ (And I've been feeling a bit guilty about my addiction to the Internet and my laptop - I'm setting for a personal goal for myself, you guys!) **

**But until then, I'll continue updating this story. :) **

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**Heart of Gold**

Clara Oswald thought it was impossible for people to dislike the Doctor. Just _impossible – _how could you _not _like him? He was funny, incredibly dorky (in an adorable, endearing way), a _bit _handsome (Clara wasn't going to admit that out loud), intelligent, and he just _likes to make people feel better. _The fact that there were people in the world who were only intent on _making _the Doctor a bad person always confused Clara.

Then again, most of the Doctor's enemies were people who were power-hungry, bitter, and full of hatred. Up until now, Clara had thought that _all _of the people who hated the Doctor were power-hungry, bitter and full of hatred.

And the funniest thing was?

The person who wanted the Doctor gone did _not _look power-hungry, bitter, and/or full of hatred. Instead, this person looked the exact opposite.

That was because this _person _was a young boy. A young boy (no more than thirteen or fourteen years old,) holding an _ice-cream cone _and dressed in a light blue, polo shirt and a pair of khakis. He looked as angelic as a little boy could possibly be…except for the look of horror on his face. He was staring at the Doctor and Clara, open-mouthed and ready to scream.

Clara supposed that boy (who she had found out was named Charles Lee,) had every right to be shocked – he had actually just witnessed the Doctor driving a bunch of Daleks off a cliff and had been in the TARDIS before _that_. (It's all a long story – which started when the Doctor decided that it was alright to allow Charles to tag along on a trip in the TARDIS.)

"Well, now that _that's _over with," the Doctor said, looking down at the void from the cliff edge and tucking his sonic screwdriver in his coat pocket. He turned around with a wide grin. "Where to next, Charles? There's tons of places that you still have to see!"

Charles, however, didn't move except to flick the ice-cream cone to the ground. He continued giving Clara and the Doctor that awful, long, surprised stare. Clara couldn't help but to feel a shiver run up her spine – was there something wrong? Why was Charles looking at them like that?

The Doctor's smile slowly faded. He had sensed it, too. He clasped his hands awkwardly in front of himself. "Is there…something you'd like to say to us?" The Doctor asked slowly. "I know it's all a lot to take in, but you get used to it. Rather quickly."

"_Used_ to it?" Charles choked out. "You get _used_ to this sort of stuff?"

"Traveling through time and space? Of course." The Doctor replied easily.

Charles shook his head violently, pointing at the ground below. "No," he said shakily. "I mean – _killing _those – those –"

"Daleks?" The Doctor raised an eyebrow. He shook his head. "Charles, those Daleks wouldn't have spared you a _second thought_. They would have _killed _you – they don't show mercy unless they _want something from you. _If they were to get away, the entire _galaxy _– maybe even the _universe_ – would be in danger. You have to understand that."

Charles frowned and turned to Clara, wide-eyed. "Does he do this a lot? Killing random things?" He asked.

Clara crossed her arms. "Well," she said slowly, "he doesn't kill _random things_. The Doctor is right – the Daleks wouldn't have cared if we spared their lives. Probably not, anyways." She stretched out her hands. "I know it sounds cruel, but –"

"It _is_ cruel!" Charles spat. "You just – you're going _along with it_ – and – and – and…" He shook his head frantically and thrust an accusing finger at the Doctor. "_You're_ the monster! _You're _the killer! _You're _gonna bring the end of the universe and –" Giving Clara and the Doctor a wild, frightened look, he shouted, "I'm going home! Leave me alone! Don't ever come back!"

With that, he spun on his heel and sprinted away. "I hate you!" He howled over his shoulder.

Clara stared after the young boy in shock. _Huh_, she thought to herself, _so _that's _what fear looks like. He's scared. _

There were a few moments of silence before Clara turned to look at the Doctor. "You know he's not right," she said, taking the Doctor's hand. "He's just frightened. You know, being pulled into all of this stuff."

The Doctor's hand was limp in Clara's grip. His eyes were trained on Clara's face, though they weren't properly _looking _at her. It was almost as though he was in…a different world, maybe. Or perhaps a different dimension. Then, in an odd, quiet voice, he said, "Charles _is _correct, though – in some ways." He paused. "I _did…end _a few lives…or maybe _more _than a few…" The Doctor looked ten years older (or maybe a hundred years older – Clara was still having trouble with the entire Time Lord-aging process,) as he said the words, "I am _a_ killer."

Clara's eyes widened. She shook her head quickly and squeezed the Doctor's hand tighter. "No," she said. "You're not that."

The Doctor's eyes flitted up to Clara – and to her relief, they were actually _looking _at her. "Then, what am I?" He asked slowly.

Clara smiled gently. "What you've always been," she murmured. "You're the Doctor."

Without waiting for an answer, Clara went on, "And…a killer has a heart of stone. Cold, relentless, unforgiving stone." She pointed at the Doctor's chest. "But _you _are not a killer – you have a…heart of gold. Warm, bright…beautiful."

Clara paused. She wrapped her arms around the Doctor's middle and, bringing her head to her shoulder, whispered, "You're not a killer, Doctor. You never have been and you never will be."

"You don't know that." The Doctor mumbled, resting his forehead on Clara's arm.

"Yes, I do." Clara replied, and bringing the Doctor out by an arm's length, she grinned. "I always have."

The Doctor laughed lightly under his breath. "'A heart of gold'," he murmured. "That _does _have a nice ring to it." Clara giggled and kissed him softly on the forehead. "Told you so." She replied.

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**A/N - I'm not proud of this chapter. *sigh* But I tried. "Charles Lee" was just a character that I made up on the spot...I suppose I can't blame him for freaking out about Daleks and the Doctor. (I mean, look at Mickey and Rory. (Though I'll always like Rory more than Mickey...sorry, Mickey fans!)) **

**Reviews are always nice! I know there's more than three people reading this, so it'd be nice of you people to just spare two seconds about what you thought of this chapter! I'll accept constructive criticism, but flames are a no-no!**


	11. Tape

**I know I was supposed to update this yesterday, but I was so sick that I just couldn't even ****_sit up _****without getting a headache. Urgh. I still ****_am _****sick and I still ****_do _****have a bad headache, but I managed to scrape this together. :/ It's not my best, but...**

**Enjoy! **

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**Tape**

"This is…an unusual kind of tape." Clara Oswald muttered, her eyebrows slowly making its way to her hairline. The alien sitting before her – a _Togruta_, Clara remembered the Doctor calling it – nodded enthusiastically. "Our people prides itself in making this the most useful and stickiest tape in the galaxy." He said. "And you can get it for only five credits!"

Clara nodded, though she was still mystified by the tape – it certainly _was_ sticky. As in, so sticky that she could _not _get it off her fingers, no matter how hard she shook her hand. She looked up at the Togruta and smiled sheepishly. "Er…how do you get this off?" She asked slowly.

The Togruta flashed a wide smile. "You don't get it off until you pay for it, of course!"

Clara's mouth dropped open. She rubbed her good hand against her brow and said slowly, "I don't have any money with me –"

"Clara! Look what I found! Aren't these cool? Look, look, look!" The Doctor was suddenly by Clara's side, holding up a bright, blue orb in his hand. "See? It's supposed to glow whenever there's an unfriendly person nearby! Isn't that wonderful? Though, I think it'd only work on humans…"

"Doctor?" Clara muttered through gritted teeth. "While that is _very _interesting, ehm – I need you to tell me if you have five credits. Right?" She turned to the Togruta, who nodded, his smile widening.

"Whatever for – ah." The Doctor looked down at Clara's hand. "You touched the tape! Why would you touch the tape?"

"How was I supposed to know it would stick?" Clara moaned, waving her hand around. "Just help me –" There was a small _splat_ sound and Clara's tape-covered hand fell over the Doctor's arm. He turned to look at Clara, who grimaced. "Whoops." She mumbled, tugging at her hand.

"Ow! Don't pull my arm off!" The Doctor yelped. "Why would you – ugh."

The Togruta clasped his hands in front of himself. "Are you ready to pay?" He asked.

"Hold on!" The Doctor said, and burying his hand in his pocket, fished out a few square-shaped, shiny objects. "Here – five credits."

The Togruta bowed his head. "Thank you for your payment." He said quietly and the tape fell from Clara's hand. She puffed out a sigh and massaged her hand with a wince. "Stupid thing," she muttered, looking down at the sticky, clear string of tape. "Remind me to _never_ touch that again."

The Doctor grinned and leaned down, carefully picking at the other side of the tape. "I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "If the tape actually helps physical contact, then it might become useful."

Clara lifted an eyebrow. "_Physical contact? _What's _that _supposed to mean?" She asked incredulously. An odd, pink color rose to the Doctor's cheeks and he brought Clara's hand to his arm. Realizing what he meant, Clara's face heated up. "Oh. _Oh_…" She mumbled.

Then, she shook her head. "For God's sake!" She huffed, whirling around. "If you want _tape _to be the reason why I'm – I'm – _touching _you, then…_gah!_ Stupid! Hopeless! You are _so _hopeless!"

The Doctor stared after her, bewildered. "What did I do?" He asked aloud helplessly.

"Ah, women," the Togruta from his stand murmured. "Who could understand them?"

The Doctor turned to the alien and frowned. "I – ah – I'm just going to go after her." He said awkwardly, and, flailing his arms, sprinted after Clara.

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**A/N - Reviews would be nice! I would like to know how I'm doing on this story and honestly, I would appreciate the effort of leaving a two-second comment. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but flames are not. **

**(AKA - _Togrutas _are an actual species from the _Star Wars _universe. For those of you who already knew that, high five!)**


	12. Do You Remember That?

**Ugh, I'm such a sucker for Whoufleé. Have I ever said that? 'Cause I am, you know - ****_such _****a ****_sucker _****for this pairing. Gaaah - after finding out that there'll be a marathon of ****_Doctor Who _****episodes starting this weekend on BBC, I just ****_had _****to go back and watch some episodes of ****_Doctor Who _****that was already On Demand. And all of those episodes included Clara and the Doctor. aslfh;fdfd **

**I'm totally calm. XD Enjoy! **

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**"Do You Remember That?" **

Clara Oswald and the Doctor were laid out on the grass, looking up at the starry, velvety sky when the discussion came up.

It was the Doctor who spoke first –

"Do you remember the first day we met?"

Clara shrugged, keeping her eyes fixated on the sky. "I don't know – depends on what _first day_ you're talking about – you could be thinking about the first day you met one of my echoes, for all I know." She replied quietly. She heard the Doctor laugh lightly under his breath.

"No, silly – I'm talking about the first time _we_ met. Not one of your copies – just…_us_." He said, his voice just as low. A small smile fluttered over Clara's lips and she turned her head to look at the Doctor. "Well, in that case, _yes_. I _do _remember – you were wearing those odd monk clothes."

The Doctor pouted. "The monk clothes were not _odd_!" He protested.

Clara rolled her eyes, rolling back to look at the stars. "Yes, they were."

There was a moment of silence between the two.

"Yeah, they were." The Doctor agreed and as Clara began laughing, he added, "But that's not the point! What else do you remember from that day?"

Clara closed her eyes – the simple truth was that she _did _remember the first day they met. Every single second of it. She remembered the Doctor's hair swept across his forehead, the excited expression on his face, the pattern of his knocks on the Maitland's door. She remembered how he did a childish (and funnily adorable) dance on the steps when Clara asked, "Doctor who?" She remembered (vaguely) feeling the Doctor's hand pressed against the top of her head, giving her a reassuring and caring pat.

However, instead of spilling this all, Clara simply said, "I remember how you dragged me into a ready-to-crash airplane."

Clara had to bite down on her lip to keep herself from laughing at the sound of the Doctor's pout in his voice. "That's all?" He asked, a whine tinging at his voice.

Clara resisted the urge to roll her eyes and she propped herself into a sitting position, looking back at the Doctor again. "What's with the sudden interest?" She asked curiously because really, she _did _want to know. "You could have asked me about it yesterday, or a week ago, or maybe even –"

"Because it's been a year since our first day." The Doctor said abruptly, deeming Clara to silence. Her jaws clicked open and for once, she was at a loss for words. Finally, Clara closed her mouth. "You…you remembered?" She asked slowly.

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow. "Well, _yeah_, of _course_ I remembered." He said, folding his arms across his chest. "Why would I _not?" _He blinked a few times at Clara and this time, his mouth opened. "_You _didn't remember!"

Clara bounced to her feet. "I _do so _remember!" She argued, and it was true – if she could remember all of those _feelings _and _moments_ on the day she first met the Doctor, it wasn't exactly easy to forget about what _day _it was when they _actually _met.

"Really?" The Doctor asked dubiously. "Because so far, the only things you _seem_ to remember is how funny I looked in monk clothes and how I led you into a stuffy airplane!"

Clara groaned and sat back down. "Well, the only reason why I said that was because I wasn't sure where you were going to go with this!" She retorted indignantly. "If you were a _bit _more clear about _what_ the point of the discussion was, I would have spilled _everything_!"

Her last words rang out into the air like a bell. Clara immediately snapped her mouth shut; eyes wide. Maybe it was just her, but she could have _sworn _that the echoes of her words were circulating around the two. The Doctor gaped at Clara. "_Everything?_" He asked. "What's _everything?" _

Clara groaned and rubbed her hands across her face. "Everything, meaning that I _remember _what happened – every single _detail_ – on that day." She said quietly. "And by everything, I _mean _everything – I remember what the weather was like on that day and I remember how you rubbed your fingers together when I opened the door and I remember how breathless you sounded and – and – and –" She puffed out a sigh and shook her head. "So, I remember." Clara finished lamely.

Clara's rant left a little, stunned silence. The Doctor's hazel eyes were still trained on Clara's dark ones and he looked absolutely _bewildered_. At one point, Clara lowered her eyes to the ground, too embarrassed and shocked with her own words to think or look at anything else. In fact, you know that feeling you get when you remember something embarrassing you had done in the past? And you bury your head in a blanket and close your eyes and will your brain to make the memory _go away_?

Clara was feeling that right now, only that _embarrassing moment _was playing itself out in _front of her_ and she _knew_ that years from now, she would _still _look back at this moment and scream about how _strange _she sounded –

Suddenly, Clara's train of thought vaporized. It was because in this second, she felt the Doctor's lips brush against her forehead – and then lower itself to her cheeks – and then finally, to her lips.

Clara had kissed the Doctor before, of course – and the Doctor had his share of kissing Clara as well, but this felt different. More electric – warmer, somehow. That probably didn't make much sense at the moment, but all of Clara's worries simply faded into the darkness. She smiled against the Doctor's lips and bowed her head, her forehead touching his.

"My Clara," the Doctor murmured, wrapping his arms around her middle. "My Clara, my Clara, my Clara."

"My Doctor," Clara whispered, pressing herself against him. She didn't even care if the gesture seemed intimate – she was just _so happy _and…it was probably ridiculous that the discussion had went from angry to loving and gentle in such a short amount of time, but Clara supposed that's what's supposed to happen with the Doctor.

She supposed that's what's supposed to happen with love, whether it was the love you had for a parent or for a good friend or your significant other. It was just unpredictable.

And wonderful.

Finally, Clara and the Doctor broke apart. She smiled and nestled herself in his arms. Clara could practically hear the grin in the Doctor's voice as he whispered, "So…you remember that day?"

"Of course."

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**A/N - Was that too sappy? Cheesy? I'll never know unless someone tells me and gives me a few thoughts! Reviews are always nice - constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	13. Want

**This chapter takes place...I don't know, before I began writing the Clara-Doctor-kissing-and-being-okay-with-it chapters. XD And August 14th is coming up - like I've said before, starting on that day, I'm going to be on a week-long hiatus from FanFiction. However, for now, I'll continue updating. :) **

**Enjoy! **

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**Want**

There were lots of things that the Doctor wanted. World peace (but with _just _the right amount of excitement), Amelia and Rory Pond (_ah, _Ponds…), perhaps a few visits to his other friends that he had made over his many years alive, just to pop in and tell them that everything was fine. (Or at least, as fine as the Doctor _could _be…)

But there were also some things that the Doctor did _not _want. As in, _had the very opposite _of _want_. Asparagus was one of them (urgh) and karaoke (he had already established how awful he was at that) and of course, dates that Clara Oswald had that did _not _include him.

_No_.

Clara – _dating _someone? That sounded absurd in the Doctor's ears – wretched, awful, bewildering, mystifying, _wrong_. In fact, he had to ask Clara a few times if he had heard him correctly. "Sorry, you got asked out to a _what?_" He asked, wide-eyed and scrubbing a finger in his ear, hoping that there was too much earwax in there or something.

Clara, however, simply rolled her eyes and leaned against the TARDIS' console. "_Yes_, Doctor, I've _actually _caught the attention of _someone_. His name is _Matt_ and he was an absolute _gentleman_. A bit odd and dorky, but still a gentleman." Clara said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "We're going out for some coffee later this afternoon, so um…I would appreciate it if you wouldn't…"

"Interrupt?" The Doctor asked in a sullen, quiet tone. He didn't like this idea. Not one bit.

If Clara noticed how disagreeable the Doctor sounded, she didn't acknowledge it. She nodded with a smile. "That's it!" She replied, clapping a hand over his shoulder. "Thanks for understanding, Doctor!" Clara bounced over to the doors but before opening them, she turned around to look at him.

"Actually, I think you would actually like Matt – you two are rather a like." Clara grinned.

"Then why are you going out with _him _if _I'm _like him? Is there something that's more appealing about this Matt fellow?" The Doctor asked sharply, crossing his arms. This time, Clara _definitely _caught onto the Doctor's annoyance. She frowned and leaned against the doors.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked slowly.

The Doctor chewed on the inside of his lip and inwardly cringed at how hard his teeth were pressing onto it. He was probably going to have some sort of sore there – that is, if the insides of his cheeks _could _form sores. _Could they? _He didn't know. Where was he?

Ah, yes – he was getting annoyed at Clara because she wanted to go out on a cheesy _coffee date _with someone named _Matt _who was supposedly like the _Doctor_.

"Well, I just think it's all funny – you would agree to dating someone who you say is _like _me, when really, if he _was_ like me, then why wouldn't you agree to date _me_?"

The Doctor's words were quick and thoughtless. Clara reacted first. Her jaws dropped open and she stared at the Doctor, wide-eyed. In turn, the Doctor slapped a hand over his mouth and, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks, quickly said, "Forget that bit! Don't think about what I said! Just – I – oh, shut up!"

Feeling warmer and more frustrated than ever, the Doctor ducked behind the console so he could avoid looking at Clara's face. To his great surprise, though, he didn't hear Clara opening the doors to leave nor the sounds of her feet advancing on him. A few moments of silence ticked by and finally, when the Doctor's curiosity was getting the better of him, he poked his head out from the console to see what was going on.

Clara's eyes were still wide and her mouth was still open, but they didn't appear…quite as _shocked _somehow. (Did that make any sense? The Doctor wasn't quite sure.)

"You…don't want me to out with Matt because you want me to go out with _you? _Is that it?" Clara whispered, her words bouncing around the TARDIS in little echoes. The Doctor slowly stepped out from the console and tapped his hands against his legs. "Maybe – yes – no – I don't know!" The Doctor replied hurriedly, shaking his head.

Clara lifted an eyebrow. "Was that a yes or a no?" She asked slowly.

The Doctor lifted his shoulders in a miserable shrug. "Not quite sure." He replied sadly.

"_Okay…_" Clara murmured slowly and this time, she started to walk up to the Doctor. She didn't stop walking until the tips of her shoes were touching his. Clara looked up at the Doctor in the eye, a serious expression pasted over her face. "Let's make this simpler – do you want me dating anyone else?"

The Doctor surprised even himself by instantly shaking his head. He didn't understand any of it – he had been traveling with Clara for a while now, and he didn't _always _feel this way about her. It had started out in little bits, actually. One morning, he started to pay attention to what she looked like and how she talked and how she acted around him and…

"Right." Clara murmured, bringing the Doctor back to the TARDIS. "So…do want me to date you…er…later? When you're more comfortable with it, I mean…?"

The Doctor hesitated. Then, after a few seconds, he managed a small nod.

Clara drew out a long breath and patted her hand on his shoulder. "Then we'll do that." She said quietly. The Doctor stared down at her, surprised. She grinned and gave him a small shrug. "I can wait for a bit." Clara murmured and turning around, she flicked on her phone.

"Hey, Matt?" Clara asked into the phone and walked down to the TARDIS doors. She leaned against them and whipped her head around, giving the Doctor a quick (yet reassuring) wink. "I'm going to have to cancel – listen, you seem like a wonderful person but I…uh…well, I'm not so sure about it all. Sorry. Really, I am."

Clara was quiet for a few seconds. Then, she smiled. "Really? Well, then, that works out just fine!" She said happily. "I hope you two are happy together – really! Of course, no hard feelings. Wonderful! Have a nice day!"

Clara brought the phone down from her ear and turned off the phone, beaming up at the Doctor. The Doctor lifted his eyebrows. "What was that all about?" He asked.

"Turns out that Matt was going to call, too – he found out that one of his friends – ah, a woman named Jenna – wanted to talk to him and they decided to go out and…" Clara grinned. "But the point is that those two have been pretty shy around each other about dating and now they finally _are_ so…he had the same thing in mind as me."

The Doctor smiled. "Really?" He asked.

Clara nodded. "Really." She replied quietly. Their eyes met each other and stood there for several seconds. Clara was looking rather pink when she finally turned around. "I'll see you next Wednesday, Doctor!" She called over her shoulder, opening one of the doors. "Goodbye!"

And with that, Clara Oswald was gone.

The Doctor smiled and leaned against the console, staring at the spot where she had been just a few seconds ago. "Ha," he said softly. "Look at that."

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**A/N - Ha, did you see what I did there with _Matt _and _Jenna_? Of course, it's not really them...though I wish Matt Smith and Jenna Coleman were dating for real. (Jenna has a partner though, so never mind...) **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	14. Pretend

**Last update on this story for the week, folks! I'll be back on the 21st/22nd to update this story! :) **

**Enjoy!**

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**Pretend**

"We're going to pretend that you're my wife!" were the first words that came out of the Doctor's mouth when Clara walked into the TARDIS. She stopped short, her lips parting in surprise. "Sorry, _what?" _She asked incredulously. The Doctor shrugged, flicking a few switches on the console.

"You heard me! How do you feel about Victorian Yorkshire?" he asked eagerly, a wide smile spread across his face. Clara frowned. "That's fine, I suppose – but…why am I supposed to pretend that I'm your wife again?"

"Because it's _proper!_" The Doctor replied, unfazed. He flashed another grin at Clara and said, "There's a wardrobe back in the halls – go find yourself a dress and get back out here!" With that, he turned back to the console, humming softly under his breath.

Still frowning, Clara slowly made her way around the console and headed out the hall. She supposed the TARDIS was feeling particularly merciful (or sympathetic) today, because it didn't take too long for her to locate the wardrobe. That is, if you could call it that – there were hangers and hangers carrying all sorts of dresses and outfits. Clara shook her head in wonder at it all – why hadn't she been here before?

It took some time for Clara to choose a proper dress – she was debating between a red and a burgundy, purple one when the Doctor poked his head into the room. "Are you done yet?" He asked impatiently.

Clara whirled around, heat rising to her face. "Have you ever heard of knocking?" She asked incredulously. "What if I was changing?"

The Doctor scratched his head in confusion. "But…you're not. So it's all fine!"

Clara rolled her eyes and turned back to the dresses. "I'll be out in a mo'." She replied and before the Doctor could leave, she added, "And don't you _dare _think about coming back here without knocking or I'll punch the lights out of you!"

"Feeling violent today, are we?" The Doctor asked, though he ducked out of the room.

Puffing out a sigh, Clara hurriedly put herself in the burgundy dress instead. She _was _always told that purple looked nice on her. She took a few moments to examine herself in a mirror and frowned, skeptical of her appearance. There was something missing…

"Hair!" Clara suddenly burst out and nodded to herself. Of course – she needed to have _some _sort of do that would make her blend in.

"Victorian, right?" She murmured and placed her hands in her hair, already thinking up of a particular hairstyle for this particular occasion. It took some time (and some swears) before Clara managed to have her hair cooperate into a somewhat frizzy, elegant bun. With a satisfied smile, Clara spun around in her dress and started to make her way out the door.

It wasn't too long before Clara found herself in the console room again. The Doctor immediately spun around to look at her, eyes widening in surprise. Several seconds of silence ticked by and finally, the Doctor managed a, "You look…different."

Clara lifted an eyebrow. "That's all you have to say?" She asked, hating the small twinge of disappointment that was poking at her voice. "I look _different?" _

The Doctor blinked and ran a hand through his hair. "It's a _good _different!" He said slowly. "Yes, a _very _good kind of different." He paused and shook his head frantically. "Not saying that you're not _always _looking good-different, but ah –"

Clara smiled, humored by the Doctor's flustered behavior. He really _was_ rather adorable whenever he acted like that. (She wouldn't ever tell him that, though – his ego was already as big as it needed to be.) Clara tapped her fingers along the railing and said sweetly, "What was that about pretending to be your wife?"

The Doctor's cheeks turned into a delicate shade of pink. "Well – er – now that I think of it, you don't have to pretend to be my wife if you don't want to – that'd be strange, right? I should be your brother – or a family friend – or a –"

"_Doctor_," Clara interrupted in a sing-song voice. The Doctor, to her amusement, actually closed his mouth. She grinned and went on, "Pretending to be your wife is absolutely fine with me."

The Doctor's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "Really?" He asked dubiously.

Now it was Clara's turn to blush. She forced her eyes on the ceiling and rolled them in the most dramatic manner possible, hoping to distract the Doctor from thinking about how red her face was probably getting. "You _obviously _can't be my brother – I would have too much fun with bossing you around. And family friend?"

She lowered her eyes to the Doctor, forcing a grimace. "That just sounds like a big excuse to date me – in a totally fake way, of course."

The Doctor nodded slowly. "Ah…well, pretend married couple it is! What should we call ourselves? The Smiths?"

Clara shrugged. "That'll do," she replied with a casual smile. The Doctor drummed his fingers against the console and let out a loud, happy laugh. "Then here we go – the Smiths are coming to Yorkshire!"

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**A/N - Obviously, this took place right before the _Crimson Horror. _I don't know if the Doctor pretended that Clara was his wife when they were going into Sweetville or not, but...I liked to pretend that those two were always going to act as a married couple even _before _they knew that something was wrong in Yorkshire. :) **

**Reviews are always nice! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	15. Calm

**I'm back from Cape Cod! And now my fingers are sore! I haven't done ****_anything _****except write, write, write the very second I got home because I didn't write ****_anything at all _****for an entire ****_week. _****(Well, that's a lie - I wrote a few pages of a different story, but it's not the same as writing on my laptop!) **

**And now it's 2:22 AM and I've been writing since about...9:00 PM and I still haven't stopped and I don't want to stop! GAAAH! (Looks like an all-nighter writing spree for me, folks! Though, by the time I upload this chapter, it'll probably be noon of this day or something...) **

**Anyways, thank you for not giving up on this story - enjoy! **

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**Calm**

The Doctor was an expert at being calm…ish. At least, he was good at being calm in times of crisis. And right now, seeing that Clara was sick, being calm was the number one thing that was needed. Well, number one thing after helping Clara – helping Clara get back on her feet was number one, obviously.

So now, the Doctor was racing around the Maitland's house with a big bowl of soup in his hands and looking for a spoon. _Where oh where was the spoon? _He tried the cupboards and the drawers and the washing machine but he _still _couldn't find any spoons, which the Doctor found _ridiculous!_

Angie and Artie weren't much of a help, either – Artie was too absorbed with his Amelia Williams novel to offer any help except for a few weak murmurs of advice and Angie was purely interested in talking on the phone with one of her friends. Every time the Doctor asked for directions to finding the spoons, the girl simply waved him away with a flap of her hand.

The children weren't really giving much thought to Clara's health, either, which the Doctor found simply _infuriating. _The past few hours hadn't been _that _bad (Clara only woke up a few times to tell the Doctor to calm down (whatever _that _meant) and to give Angie and Artie a snack when they return home.) but now, as the noise level in the house was growing increasingly louder, the Doctor was running out of patience. (Patience was for _wimps!_)

Angie was still jabbering away on the phone, her voice gradually reaching a shrieking point to prove some sort of point to her friend on the other end (the Doctor caught a few words about a boy named Josh and something about shoes and lip gloss. He decided the steer clear of that topic if he was to ask for help from her again,) and Artie was beginning to read his book aloud. Whereas the Doctor was _all about _education and sharpening the brain, he was finding Artie's new habit a _bit _annoying today.

And then, of course, the laundry machine automatically started up and began to make a ruckus and Angie screamed and threw her phone across the room and Artie finished his novel and started asking the Doctor if he could go to the cinema with his friends. And then the neighborhood cat got into the house (and the Doctor still doesn't know _how _it got in) and he spent the next thirty minutes trying to get it back to its owner.

By the time the Doctor got back, the soup was cold and he had to re-heat it (_sigh_) and re-start his expedition for the spoon, which was growing ridiculously long and hard. Finally, he managed to get Angie to tell him _where_ the silverware were (turns out that it was all stacked on one of the drawers in the cupboard in the back of the kitchen) and then Angie and Artie got into an argument.

The Doctor wasn't sure _what _the argument was about, but it included the throwing and tossing of couch pillows, hollering insults and pathetic names, and overturning a table. (The Doctor had to fix that mess, too! He was beginning to wonder why Clara hadn't lost her sanity yet.)

It wasn't until the Doctor heard Clara throwing up in the bathroom did he finally snap, "_Everyone, listen to me and be quiet!" _

Funnily enough, Angie and Artie immediately hushed up, leaving an eerie and tense silent for everyone to bask in. The Doctor puffed out a sigh and straightened himself. He grabbed the soup and tucked the spoon inside the liquid before saying, "Now, I'm going to go upstairs – you two are not to move _at all. _Do you understand?"

Giving the brother and sister duo a stern stare, the Doctor added, "Don't even breathe! Well, no, you can breathe – but _shallow breaths_. _Very _shallow. If I hear another crash or scream or _something loud_ from down here, I will make sure that…that…"

Unable to find a promising threat, the Doctor finished lamely, "I'll make sure that Clara will come up with an awful, awful punishment! Ha! See? There!" He pointed a finger at Angie and Artie, who, unknown to him, were trying rather hard to bite back their laughter. (However, to the Doctor, this only gave him the impression that they were gulping back swallows of discomfort.)

With a nod at the two children, the Doctor marched up the stairs and walked into Clara's bedroom. There was a _flush _from outside and within a few minutes, a rather pale and sweaty Clara Oswald was staggering into the room. The Doctor beamed at her and clapped his hands together. "Clara, there you are!" He said cheerfully and immediately placed a hand over her forehead. He frowned.

"A bit warmer than I would have liked, but it's better than this morning, yes?"

Not waiting for an answer, the Doctor held up the bowl of soup with another smile. "And I also got you this – just in case you're hungry. Which you probably are." He nodded to Clara's bed and the brunette obediently sat down. Clara brought her blankets around her body and stared as the Doctor gently started to push a spoonful of soup into her mouth.

"Are you…feeding me?" Clara asked hoarsely, an eyebrow making its way to her hairline. The Doctor flushed, though he waved away her comment with an eye-roll. "Yes, I'm feeding you – what's wrong with that? Come on, eat up! I don't want you getting any sicker than you already are!"

After forcing Clara to eat several more spoonfuls of soup, the Doctor put the bowl down on the nightstand. Clara looked up at the Doctor and asked slowly, "Have you been staying here the entire time?"

The Doctor nodded enthusiastically. "Took care of the kids, took care of the house, and now it's time to take care of _you!_" He said.

Clara smiled and sighed with a shake of her head. She brushed back the Doctor's hair and poked him on the shoulder with another hand. "As much as I appreciate the help, Doctor, calm down and take it down a few notches, yeah?" Clara asked lightly. "You're only human."

"Time Lord. Not human." The Doctor replied automatically. Clara laughed quietly, burrowing herself in blankets and pillows. "You know what I mean – take a break."

The Doctor twiddled with his thumbs for a bit before saying, "By taking a break, do you mean –"

"Calm down? Yes. You don't need to run around everywhere, you know." Clara replied, her voice quiet and soft with the danger of sleep. "So…you don't need to keep giving me that worried look or think you have to take care of everything in the neighborhood."

The Doctor looked down at the carpet. "Ah."

"It's nice, though." Clara continued. The Doctor could hear the smile in her voice. "But you know what I mean, right? Unwind and all that? Just for a bit?"

The Doctor turned to Clara, who was staring at him with a small, hopeful smile. He grinned and nodded. "Yeah," he replied and kicked himself back into Clara's bed, wrapping his arms around her small torso. "See? I'm unwinding!" He said happily and Clara let out a small laugh, though she seemed just as content with the Doctor's new method of calming down.

* * *

**A/N - Ah, I want a Doctor to take care of me when I'm sick. (Finally got over that nasty cough, by the way - phew! I was really going insane after that. O.O) **

**As always, please, please review! I know that if you can take two seconds to hit that fave/follow button, you can take two more seconds to tell me what you thought of this chapter! Constructive criticism is always welcome, but flames are not! **


	16. Trousers

**Aaand a new chapter of this story! It's also official, you guys - _Shake It Off _by Taylor Swift will now be my soundtrack for writing any humorous chapters/stories. XD (Yes, I'm a Swiftie. I would prefer not to be hated on over my music taste, thank you very much.) **

**Whether you're a Swiftie or not, I hope that doesn't take away from this little chapter - enjoy! **

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**Trousers**

Clara Oswald was trying her best to bite back laughter because standing next to her was a rather indignant, wet Doctor. She casually rubbed her knuckles over her lips and turned her head to concentrate on the horizon rather than the Doctor's trousers, which were dripping with water. However, just as Clara thought she had controlled herself, a small giggle escaped her mouth.

The Doctor's head sharply turned to Clara, his mouth already open for a retort. "Are you laughing at me?" He asked dubiously. "I don't appreciate that, you know!" He poked an angry finger at Clara's shoulder, only triggering a few more giggles from the brunette.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," she said lightly. "But…you've got to admit that this is all funny."

And Clara wasn't lying – if the Doctor hadn't been so cross, Clara would have laughed a long time ago. It had been a fairly hilarious event as well – the Doctor had been bouncing around one of the boats on the beach and despite Clara's warnings, he didn't bother stopping. (He was convinced that there was a creature living underneath the planks of the boat.)

Too soon, the Doctor had slid off the boat and landed in the water below. It took a few moments of shouting and scolding, but Clara had (somehow) managed to drag the Doctor out of the water and now they were on the way to the TARDIS.

The first few minutes of bringing the Doctor out of the water were worrisome, though Clara came to the realization the Doctor was more embarrassed and humiliated rather than cold and in shock.

"It's not funny!" The Doctor now snapped, wiping his hands on his already-wet trousers. "I look like I wet myself, Clara! It's absolutely ridiculous! I don't want to look like…like…"

"A little boy?" Clara offered and he nodded back vigorously. "_Yes, exactly!_" The Doctor replied. "I look like a little boy who peed in his trousers and I'm being taken along by a _nanny _–"

"A good nanny, though," Clara cut off in a sing-song, airy voice. She tugged the Doctor with her hand and said, "And for the record, you won't need to be embarrassed any longer – we're almost to the TARDIS, but if you keep grumbling like that, it'll take much longer."

The Doctor huffily allowed himself to be led to the TARDIS after that.

Clara was grateful for the warm gust of air once she opened the doors. She pointed inside the console room and said in a stern, authorative voice, "Find new trousers and a shirt, please. We'll get back to investigating…whatever we were investigating when you're in a proper set of clothes."

"Yes, ma'am." The Doctor mocked and quickly ducked out of the way from Clara's ready fist. He stuck his tongue out after the brunette as he made his way out of the hallways, most definitely in search for a change of clothes.

Clara rolled her eyes and closed the doors before leaning against the console, waiting for the Doctor to re-emerge. However, once a few minutes ticked past, Clara was beginning to worry. Did it really take this long for a man to change? (Well, Time Lord, but…the Doctor didn't have any extra limbs poking out to Clara's knowledge.)

"The Doctor probably did something silly, right?" Clara said aloud and with a shake of her head, she pushed herself away from the console and strolled out to the hallways. "Doctor?"

When no answer came, Clara proceeded into the long corridor until she came to a stop to the wardrobe. She knocked on the door, though that didn't stop her from poking her head out of the door to take a quick peek if the Doctor was in the room or not.

The next second was one of mixed emotions – for one, the Doctor _was _in the room, to Clara's great relief, but he was also completely stripped of trousers. Or boxers, for that matter. Thankfully, the Doctor had a shirt on which was long enough to cover the parts that needed to be covered, but it was still rather…ah, blush-inducing for Clara and the Doctor.

For the smallest bit of that second, Clara and the Doctor didn't do much except stare at each other with wide eyes. Then, both members screamed and whirled around. (Clara didn't see anything else.)

"Ever heard of privacy? You're always the one talking about it!" The Doctor yelled in an unusually high-pitched voice. Clara could hear him rummaging through the wardrobe, undoubtedly looking for a pair of trousers. She simply brought her hands to her warm face and replied, "I _did _knock, you know! It's not my fault that you didn't answer the door on time!"

"Oh, so this is all _my _fault?" The Doctor snapped waspishly and after listening to a ruffle of fabric, Clara risked a quick peek over her shoulder. It seemed that the Doctor was suspecting that something like this was going to happen, too, for he held out his arms, his eyebrows lifted. He had, indeed, found a decent pair of trousers and had put them on.

"Better?"

"Much." Clara replied faintly.

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**A/N - Hm...perhaps a bit shorter than I would have liked, but I still found this amusing. What do you think? Reviews are always nice - constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not!**


	17. Chain

**Wow. Last night was ****_awesome _****- (SPOILERS UP AHEAD!) **

**_Deep Breath _****was possibly one of the craziest and saddest and most Whoufleé-felt episodes in the history of ****_Doctor Who. _****I ****_love _****Twelve already ("PLANET OF THE PUDDING-BRAINS!") and I'm looking forward to how Clara and his relationship will work out. Who else cried over Eleven's phone call? I sobbed like a little baby for ****_hours _****after that. And is it odd that I still ship Whoufleé with Twelve? (There's a name - Whouffaldi, I think...) I just feel like their relationship (whether you see it as platonic or romantic,) will be one of great interest and friction and I just can't wait to see it. **

**Ah, rant over - this was just a quick, light drabble to entertain myself. Enjoy! **

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**Chain**

Clara Oswald and the Doctor were in _quite _a situation, and it was _all _the Doctor's fault. (As usual.) Clara personally still didn't understand how she was _tied _to the Doctor with _chains_. If anything, she had been thinking that handcuffs would keep them together, but _no, _she just _had _to be tied to him with a metallic, painful, long length of chain.

The most annoying part of it all was that the Doctor and Clara were running down the enormous building they were trapped in and they couldn't quite run evenly with the chain stuck between them. Clara kept tripping over her feet and the Doctor wasn't making matters any easier. He always appeared to be at least a few steps in front of Clara, which was most inconvenient for her.

When Clara tripped over her feet for the fifth time in a row, she yanked the Doctor back with the chain, causing him to cry out in surprise.

"What are you doing?" The Doctor asked incredulously, pulling on his side of the chain. "We need to _go, Clara!" _

"Doctor, we need to _cooperate!_" Clara shot back, tugging violently at the chain so that the Doctor would only be a few inches away from her. "And dragging me around like this does _not _seem to work for either of us!"

"Well, just run faster!" The Doctor replied. "And then I won't _have _to pull you along!"

Clara narrowed her eyes. "Oh, so it's _my _fault that we can't cooperate? _You're _the one who got us into these chains in the first place! I told you, _no, Doctor, don't touch the shiny thing!_ Did you listen? _Noo_, you just _had _to go and ignore me!" She stamped her foot angrily. "So come on, Chin Boy – _I'm _going to be the one in charge and _you're _not going to say anything about it!"

The Doctor blinked, confused as Clara immediately set off down the hall. "I thought you said that we were supposed to cooperate!" He shouted after her.

"_This _is cooperation, Doctor! _This _is how it works!" Clara replied huffily, rounding the corner. She didn't even bother checking the Doctor after he let out a small "ouch!" after bumping into one of the walls.

_Serves him right, _she thought smugly to herself.

* * *

**A/N - Because we all know that Clara would be the dominant one in this relationship. (That...sounded somewhat inappropriate. O.O Whoops.) And _gosh darn it, _I feel like _Young and Beautiful _is officially Twelve and Clara's song...ish. ("Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?...I know you will..." GAH. FEELS.) **

**Anyways. I'm calm. (Not really. _August 30th needs to come sooner! I need more Twelve and Clara!_) **

**As always, reviews would be nice! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not!**


	18. Ladder

**I suppose this should be rated T for some mature jokes. XD This isn't a very serious work - just a quick drabble, because drabbles are so very fun to play around with. And to clear anything up, no, I won't be including Twelve in this story, since this is supposed to revolve only around Whoufleé, but I think I ****_will _****right some Twelve/Clara at one point. (Don't judge me!)**

**Enjoy! **

* * *

**Ladder**

"After you!"

"No, after _you! _I'm wearing a dress! Eyes front, soldier!"

"Ha!" The Doctor laughed, though he took a hold of the ladder with his hands. He gave Clara a teasing grin and went on, "My eyes are _always _front!" With that, he started to make his first few steps up the ladder. Clara stared at the back of his head, a small smile curling at her lips. She couldn't help herself – it was almost as though the Doctor was just _begging _for another comeback.

Leaning against the wall behind her, Clara sang, "Mine aren't!"

To Clara's satisfaction, the Doctor stiffened and whirled around to look at her, his eyes wide. Proving her point, Clara's eyes darted away from the Doctor's face and peered to his lower parts. A small blush crept up the Doctor's cheeks and he stammered, "Stop it!"

Clara giggled lightly into her hand as he scrambled up the ladder. Shaking her head, she climbed up after him.

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**A/N - I wanted to re-visit that moment in _The Snowmen. _No, this drabble doesn't take place in that particular episode - I just thought it'd be fun to repeat that moment. Besides, whenever I see the word _ladder_, I automatically think about that scene between the two. XD **

**As always, reviews would be awesome! Constructive criticism is always welcome, but flames are not!**


	19. What Do You Want This Time?

**This chapter would take place after Clara and the Doctor would be...officially a couple, I suppose. (In this story, anyways. The timeline is a bit funny. ;)) **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

**"What Do You Want This Time?" **

Clara Oswald was struggling to patient with the Doctor. She really, really was…but if he interrupted her class _again_, she was going to lose it. The Doctor wasn't even _supposed _to be in Coal Hill School, but _somehow_, he managed to get himself a job as a science teacher.

Needless to say, Clara was initially worried about _what _the Doctor might possibly be teaching them, but after a few days, she came to the realization that the Doctor was a decent teacher. (Much to the principal and Clara's surprise, the students actually appeared to be _excited _to get to the Doctor's class. Last time Clara checked, science wasn't a really well-liked course in the school until he came.)

However, despite the fact that the Doctor was doing well with teaching the children, he had some other flaws – which included _constantly popping into Clara's classroom. _Most of the time, he asked things like, "do you know where the loo is?" or "do you have any tape?" and the strangest one yet, "would it be legal for me to drop a desk from the roof of the school?"

Clara didn't mind the interruptions at first, but after a while, the Doctor's little visits turned into long, lengthy stays in which the students were more interested in what he was going to do rather than Clara's lessons. Sometimes, the Doctor would stay for so long so that Clara and he would have loud, long debates over the focus of the class. (Those 'lessons' were always the students' favorites.)

For several weeks now, Clara was fighting hard to keep herself calm and cool in front of her students when the Doctor kept coming. But today, after grading a dozen or so failed tests (one of Clara's best students even failed!), she was prepared to put her foot down.

So, when the Doctor walked into Clara's classroom _again_, she immediately pointed at the door. "Leave," she said in such a stern voice that a few titters broke out amongst the students. The Doctor pouted. "But I didn't say anything!" He said incredulously.

"Yes, but I _know _you're going to say _something_, so I'll repeat myself – leave before you do!" Clara retorted and, planting her hands on the Doctor's shoulders, started to push him away.

"Hey, hey, _hey!_" The Doctor shouted, placing his arms out before him so he wouldn't get past the doorframe. He whirled around to look at Clara, eyes wide. "I just wanted to do something!"

Clara let out an exasperated sigh and with a toss of her head, she flicked a glance at her students. "Just give us a few minutes, will you, class?" She asked in a feigned, cheerful tone. "Read the next chapter of _And Then There Were None, _please!"

With that, she gave the Doctor another shove and followed him out of the door. She closed it tightly behind her and asked, "What do you want _this _time?"

The Doctor waved his hands about, a nervous smile on his face. "I just wanted to check in on you! Make sure you were okay! See how things are going!"

Clara rolled her eyes, placing her hands over her hips. "Everything is _fine_," she replied. "But it _won't be _if you keep coming into my classroom! I've had students _failing_, Doctor, because we can't get _anything done _when you're around!"

The Doctor frowned. "Really? I thought they were going to do fine. You seem to be teaching them well."

Clara shook her head. "Teaching them doesn't matter – they won't pay attention whenever you come into the room." She puffed out an annoyed sigh and crossed her arms. "So, just get out…whatever you wanted to get out and go back to your class. You really should stay there more often."

The Doctor waved his hand carelessly. "I've set them to experimenting with the beakers. I really think they're having fun!" He beamed at Clara, but when she didn't return the smile, he faltered. "Oh, fine, fine – I'll do what I came here for and I'll head back. I won't bother you until…eighth period!"

Clara sighed. "Fine – eighth period is free for me, anyways." She said tiredly.

The Doctor smiled again and in a flash, he gently brushed his lips over Clara's. "Just wanted to say _love you _and have a nice rest-of-the-day." He said quietly and with a squeeze of her hand, he quickly left.

Clara blinked and stared after the Doctor, eyes wide. Her arms slowly lowered to her side and looking around the hallway to make sure that there wasn't anyone to see (or hear) her, she let out a soft giggle. _Oh, Doctor, _she thought fondly as she swung open the door to the classroom. _Love you, too. _

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**A/N - Short? Yes. Cheesy? Almost definitely. (Erk - that's the problem with writing romance. I can be _so cheesy and sappy _sometimes.) **

**However, I hope you guys still found it (somewhat) acceptable. Reviews are always appreciated - constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	20. Prize

**If I keep these daily uploads up, this story will be done within thirty days. I never took that into consideration until now, haha. XD **

**This bit of writing is a bit short, but I still hope it captures the same, adorable pairing. :) Enjoy! **

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**Prize**

The fair that the Doctor took Clara to was amazing – brilliant, flashing, colorful lights shone in every single direction and groups and groups of people crowded the streets. The sights and smells and sounds were all somewhat foreign to Clara, though she didn't mind it at all. The beautiful, bright strips of cloth that swung from lines of string overhead flapped lightly in the breeze and the occasional call of parents and children rang through the air.

Again, Clara loved it. Not to mention that since there were so many people, the Doctor had _insisted _that she was to hold his hand in case they would get lost. There was the unnatural arrangement of being dragged behind, but for once, Clara was fine with it. It felt nice to have her hand in the Doctor's in an insane, wonderful sort of way.

_Does that make any sense? _Clara thought giddily to herself. However, she quickly brushed that away – she was happy and feeling hopelessly sappy in this setting.

It wasn't until Clara spotted a small booth of stuffed bears did she finally tell the Doctor to stop. "Look, look, look!" She yelled, tugging his sleeve frantically. The Doctor turned around. "What is it?" He asked, and when Clara pointed wordlessly at the booth, his eyebrows jumped.

"Oh! It's one of those…those…claw things! Those claw-grab-stuffed-animals things!" The Doctor looked down at Clara, a quizzical smile on his face. "I didn't know you liked that kind of stuff!"

Clara stuck out her tongue and dragged him to the booth. "Can we get a bear? Please?"

The Doctor rubbed his hands together. "Teddy-bear, prepared to be grabbed!" He said enthusiastically, earning himself a wide smile from Clara. He placed his hands over the console and carefully made the claw make its way to one of the many bears in the pile.

"Go down! Go down!" Clara shrieked and the Doctor pressed the button for the claw to lower itself. However, the claw only barely took scratched the surface of the bear. Clara and the Doctor groaned in unison. "You've got two more tries!" Clara said, peering through the glass hopefully. "You can still get a bear!"

The Doctor nodded, keeping his eyes trained on the pile. "Just a few minutes! Or a few seconds! Aren't these things supposed to be rigged?"

"Most of the time," Clara replied, nodding her head. "But this might work!"

But when the Doctor missed the bear again, he stuck a hand in his coat pocket and yanked out his familiar screwdriver. "Consider this done! The bear is a-coming!" He said and pointed his instrument at the booth. Clara grinned, crossing her arms. "Isn't that cheating?" She asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Well, you were the one who wanted the bear!" The Doctor replied. "And – ah – one bear for Miss Oswald!"

Sure enough, the bear slid out from the flap in the booth, delivering itself right into the Doctor's waiting hands. He grinned over at Clara, who let out a small laugh. "There you go!" He said, handing it over to Clara.

The brunette looked up at the Doctor, eyes shining. "Thanks," she replied, her tone light. At the Doctor's broadening smile, she pecked his cheek. "Let's go visit the other booths here, shall we?"

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**A/N - Erk. Not so proud of this chapter, but I hope it was satisfactory. As always, please review! I think if you have the time to hit the fave/follow button, you'll have the time to just post a two-second comment. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but flames are not. (And now, I shall go watch Bradley James do the Ice Bucket Challenge. XD)**


	21. Weak at the Knees

**Back with a new chapter! This was very...fun for me to write. (I actually wrote it after dancing to ****_Help _****by ****_Hurts_**** in my room and the idea came to me. Yes, I like to dance alone in my room with invisible partners. Don't judge me - I ****_am _****a dork. XD)**

**Enjoy! **

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**Weak at the Knees**

It was on the beach when the Doctor started to joke about how weak and knobby his knees were. Clara wasn't quite sure where those comments were coming from, but she simply laughed along. "Weak knees can't always be a bad thing," she replied. "You can still run and…kick a ball, from the looks of it."

"Yes, but have you ever tried crouching? It _hurts_," the Doctor replied, giving Clara such a heartfelt grimace that she couldn't help but to smile. "I'm sorry, I must be _so _inconsiderate," she teased, squeezing his hand. The Doctor beamed at Clara and returned the gesture by planting a small kiss on top of her head. (_One hand hold is an equivalent to a Doctor's kiss, _Clara noted.)

Or maybe it wasn't, for Clara had noticed that today, the Doctor was feeling and acting different. Not a bad different, no, but he kept looking over at Clara with such tenderness and care that made the young woman wonder what he could possibly be thinking. That wasn't it, though – while the Doctor kept looking at Clara with those shining, loving eyes, he always had flashes of fear and doubt cross his face. Clara felt uneasy whenever he looked at her like that – what was he going to do?

Clara, however, didn't mention any of this as the two walked by the shoreline. Their hands swung back and forth in the most adorable way possible (in Clara's opinion, anyways,) and they enjoyed the ocean breeze. It wasn't until the Doctor suggested that they walk off on the sidewalk did Clara felt something different enter their previously peaceful atmosphere.

The Doctor was beginning to make little, bouncing movements on the balls of his feet and even _skipped _a bit to get to the sidewalk. Clara followed, though she was beginning to get more and more confused by the second. _Why _was the Doctor acting like this? She knew the Doctor was _always _excited about _something_, but today, he was…what, bouncier? Happier? Who knew?

It wasn't until the Doctor got down on one of his knees did he answer Clara's questions. At first, she was worried. "Er…are you alright? Your knees can't be _that _weak, yeah?" She asked worriedly, already beginning to tug the Doctor back to his feet.

"Oi! No! No, I'm fine!" The Doctor said hurriedly, planting himself firmly back on the ground. "Just – uh – give me a second."

Clara continued to watch him worriedly until he fumbled out a small, velvet box out from his coat pocket. She sucked in a quick breath and covered her mouth, stunned, as he opened up the box to reveal a shining, sparkling ring. It was beautiful – the band of silver, the delicate diamond perched over it…and the fact that it was the _Doctor _who was giving it to her.

"_Right_," he said in a somewhat sheepish tone, "Clara Oswald, will you…marry me?"

Clara stared and brought her hands to her face, letting out a feeble laugh. "Wow – um – I feel…my knees," she said weakly, pointing down at the ground and in a flash, she was kneeling in front of the Doctor.

The Doctor's eyes widened in concern. "Er…too soon?" He asked. "If you don't want to –"

"Oh, my goodness, no, Doctor. _No_," Clara replied breathlessly, her eyes shining. "I _want _to marry you – yes. _Yes, _Chin Boy, I am _definitely _going to marry you." With that, she brought her face towards his and planted a long, hard kiss on his lips. Only seconds after she did so, Clara realized that she must have looked rather silly, kissing the Doctor on the sidewalk while crouching, but it seemed like no one really minded. (In fact, Clara was sure that she heard a few approving honks and cheers from the cars passing by.)

When Clara finally pulled away, the Doctor was staring with a dazed, confused expression. "So, that was a yes, right? Because you said _no_ first and I don't want to get any mixed signals –" He broke off abruptly as Clara planted another kiss on his lips, this one a bit softer than the last.

"_Yes_, Doctor – yes, I want to marry you." Clara replied softly. "No mixed signals or tricks – just a straight out, clear _yes_."

A wide, happy smile split the Doctor's face. He wrapped his arms around Clara's shoulders and pulled her close to his chest. "We're getting married! Ha, look at that!" He shouted gleefully. The Doctor turned around to look at a few curious pedestrians. "See? We're getting married!"

Under normal circumstances, Clara would have been _extremely _embarrassed by the Doctor's loud exclamations, but today, she was too lighthearted with happiness to be bothered. In fact, many of the pedestrians all gave the Doctor and Clara thumbs-ups and sincere smiles and "congratulations!" before continuing on their way.

After the Doctor had calmed down (by only a few notches, by the looks of it,), he swung Clara into an embrace and carried her back to the beach.

"You _do _know I can still walk," Clara said, laughing as he didn't make any motives in dropping her back to the ground. The Doctor beamed back down at Clara. "Yes, but I've heard that most married couples carry each other like this," he replied. He paused. "Well, actually, we're not married yet, but…"

The Doctor gave Clara a little bounce in his arms, causing her heart to skip a bit more in her chest. She smiled and flung her arms around the Doctor's neck, curling up against his body. "Then if that's the case, this'll do just fine for me." She said quietly and it was true – for the first time in a while, the two were completely fine with the situation.

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**A/N - I had to. I really, really had to. _Gak _- oh, and I was re-watching _Deep Breath _on the telly for the fifth time (or something like that) and I was re-analyzing a particular moment between Twelve and Clara..."I'm not your boyfriend, Clara." *pause* Clara - "I never thought you were." (Yeah, right.) And then, Twelve..."I never said it was your fault." asdfdsfdjfkds;jfasd WHOUFLEÉ WAS REAL YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE AFTER WATCHING THAT **

**Aaand I'm calm. Haha, no I'm not. As always, reviews are awesome! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not! (And is anyone else excited for Saturday night? I _need_ more Twelve and Clara, gosh darn it!)**


	22. Alive

**A wedding drabble for all of you wonderful readers. XD I was listening to ****_Sweeter Than Fiction _****by the lovely Taylor Swift whilst writing this and let me just tell you - ****_it worked wonders. _****(Then again, I'm a Swiftie at heart, so I suppose my opinion might be a bit biased...) **

**Enjoy! **

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**Alive**

There were plenty of times when she felt alive. She had felt alive when she was holding her mother and father's hands. She had felt alive when she got her first kiss in grade eight, even if it wasn't from the _One_. She had felt alive when she rode a roller-coaster for the first time with her friends. She had felt alive when she first stepped into his blue box. She had felt alive when she got her first kiss from him. She had felt alive when he proposed to her.

And now, Clara Oswald felt alive – _so alive_ – as the Doctor said the words, "I do" and Clara agreed with the simple "I do".

And she felt that happy life bursting in wonderful, beautiful flashes as the Doctor dove forward to kiss her. She could hear the distant cheering of her father and the Maitlands in the background. They were the only ones at the wedding, but it didn't matter. Clara wouldn't have had it any other way, and she knew that the Doctor didn't mind the small party, either.

Everything was perfect – Clara threw her small bouquet of brilliant, pink and red roses (which Angie caught with a shriek of happiness) and the group all went forward to have dinner. It was, again, not exactly the most extravagant kind of wedding, but the Doctor made it all better. His hand remained in Clara's throughout the entire night, only moving to carry her in his arms to the TARDIS.

In other words?

Clara had never felt so happy or so alive in her entire life.

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**A/N - Reviews are awesome and appreciated! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not! (And I'm sorry about the roses reference. I'm so, so sorry.) **

**..._teehee._**


	23. Ring

**New chapter, wow! I've been writing more than ever - mostly because I want to get a bunch of the future chapters written down before school. **

**Enjoy! **

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**Ring**

"Mama, what's that on your finger?" A small, shy voice asked from behind Clara. The brunette turned around and smiled at her daughter, Taylor, who was waddling forward in tiny, tentative steps. It was in moments like these when Clara would be stunned at what her life was like with a child.

Taylor Oswald was a beautiful child in Clara's eyes, although she supposed that every mother was supposed to think that when seeing her daughter. Taylor was, without a doubt, Clara and the Doctor's daughter – she had the Doctor's funny chin and Clara's peculiar nose. Her eyes were doe-like and her mouth was small, though they always stretched out into a wide, wonderful smile whenever she was happy.

"Mama?" Taylor repeated, waddling over to her mother. Clara smiled and scooped the little girl in her arms. "What, this thing?" She asked quietly, extending her fingers and revealing her wedding ring. Taylor tapped it and nodded. "Uh-huh. What is it? And why do you always have it?"

"_This_, Taylor, is a wedding ring. It's a promise, see? A promise made by your daddy." Clara replied, bouncing her daughter gently in her arms. Taylor looked at her mother with wide eyes. "What promise?" She asked, surprised.

"A promise that he'd love me forever and ever," Clara said quietly. Taylor looked down at the wedding ring and tilted her head in confusion. "Huh," she said, and poked at it again. "It's pretty."

"It is," Clara agreed. "But it's even prettier because of the promise your daddy made, see?"

Taylor shrugged and Clara laughed softly under her breath. Taylor was still too young to understand how much her parents loved each other or her, for that matter. (Well, Taylor knew that her parents loved her, but she didn't quite understand the _unconditional _part of the package yet. Not that it mattered, of course. Taylor was fine just the way she was.)

She slid out of Clara's arms and said, "Does Daddy have a ring?"

"Yes, he does," a low, familiar voice spoke from the doorframe and both Clara and Taylor whirled around to see the Doctor standing before them. He lifted his hand to reveal his own band of silver wrapped around his finger. Taylor's face split into a smile and with a gleeful shriek, she ran to her father. The Doctor smiled and immediately swooped his daughter into a tight embrace.

"So, does that mean Mama made a promise, too?" Taylor asked into the Doctor's shoulder. The Doctor locked eyes onto Clara, who was smiling at the pair. Returning the gesture with his own glowing grin, he replied, "Yes, Taylor – Mama made a promise that she'd love me, too."

Taylor turned from the Doctor's shoulder and looked over at Clara, declaring in a matter-of-factly voice, "I think I should get a ring, too, Mama, since you and Daddy love me, too."

The Doctor and Clara exchanged amused looks, though the Doctor replied, "I think that sounds fair. Let's see if we can get you a ring, yeah?"

Squealing in excitement, Taylor jumped down from the Doctor's arms and started tugging on her parents' hands. "Where are we gonna get the ring, Daddy?" She asked enthusiastically. "Where are we gonna go?"

At this, Clara and the Doctor couldn't help but to look at each other again. Taylor knew the lifestyle that the family lived in, which was always such a precious thing to know. While most girls Taylor's age would be excited about returning to a cozy house, Taylor would be excited about the concept of living in a large, blue box. (Clara once made the mistake of letting Taylor go to public school once – there were a few discussions about sending Taylor to a guidance counselor after that, since the girl could not stop talking about the TARDIS or how her father liked to travel through time or space or how confused she was that things were never _bigger on the inside_.

To be honest, the Doctor and Clara were absolutely fine with taking Taylor out of school after that incident. She seemed to learn so much more when she was with her parents, after all.

"I'm thinking…Shili," the Doctor replied. "They've got wonderful bits of jewelry there – and the inhabitants would love to give you something."

Taylor beamed at her father, who fairly shone at the amount of happiness in the atmosphere. The ride there was quick and joyful, too – Taylor had proven to be quick to catch onto the console whenever the TARDIS would fly. Clara and the Doctor would always keep a hand on her, though, just in case she would topple backwards. (But to be honest, Taylor seemed to enjoy the bumpy ride.)

When they came to a stop on Shili, the inhabitants – whom the Doctor told Clara and Taylor were Togrutas (and triggering a few humorous memories in Clara's mind in the process) – greeted them gracefully. They all adored Taylor, patting her head of dark, straight hair and cooing at her innocence.

"We're looking for a ring for her," the Doctor said cheerfully. "Do you think you can help us find one?"

The Togrutas didn't even bother giving the Doctor a proper answer. They tugged at Clara and Taylor and his hands, dragging them into one particular hut. Clara smiled and looked up at the Doctor. "Must be pretty enthusiastic," she commented. The Doctor beamed down at her. "Well, there's the Togruta for you," he replied lightly.

The Togrutas were enthusiastic, indeed. They presented Taylor with small, dainty rings with all kinds of stones and jewels perched on different bands of colors. The Doctor and Clara both watched their daughter with happy eyes as she looked over each of the rings with a delicate amount of concentration.

"They're all really pretty," Taylor said honestly. "But I'm still getting one 'cause I don't wanna look greedy."

These words, naturally, brought up another coo from the crowd of Togrutas. Oblivious to the amount of adoration directed at her, Taylor looked down at the rings and after a few minutes of careful consideration, she plucked out a single bit of jewelry.

"I want this one," she said quietly, holding up the ring for everyone to see. Clara was happy in Taylor's taste – the ring was simple but had a sort of elegance to it, which didn't seem to overdo itself for someone of Taylor's age. The ring had a light blue band with a small, pink stone perched over it.

A Togruta stepped forward and carefully slid the ring over Taylor's little finger. The little girl let out a burst of laughter and turned to her parents, waving her hand proudly. "Look! Look! Look!" She cried gleefully, running into Clara and the Doctor.

Clara smiled down at Taylor and asked gently, "What do you say to the nice people who helped you find the ring?"

Taylor grinned bashfully up at her mother and turned around at the Togrutas. She bobbed her head into a small nod and said in a sing-song voice, "Thank you!"

"You're welcome!" The group chorused back. With those words exchanged, the Doctor led Clara and Taylor out of the hut. They were just making their way into the TARDIS when the leader asked, "May I ask why you wanted a ring for your little girl?"

"She was convinced that getting her a ring would be our promise that we'd love her," the Doctor replied, giving the leader a sheepish grin. "She got that idea after my wife explained why she had her own wedding ring and why I had mine."

The leader smiled. "A child is a beautiful thing," he said quietly. "You'll cherish it."

The Doctor nodded slowly. "I do – my wife does, too. We love our daughter more than anything else in the world."

The leader clasped his hands. "And may it remain that way, dear man." He replied. "And may you enjoy the time you have with her."

The Doctor blinked, obviously bewildered at how to answer those words. Instead, he smiled again and closed the door of the TARDIS.

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**A/N - Well, the name Taylor came to me after listening to a bunch of Taylor Swift. XD Plus, I always liked the name _Taylor. _**

**Reviews would be awesome! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not!**


	24. Spy

**Not my best work, but...eh. I just decided to dabble a bit more with Taylor and her relationship with Clara and the Doctor. XD And regarding _Into the Dalek _- _wow_. I have so many conflicted feelings over Danny and Clara's relationship, (I don't want to let go of Twelve and Eleven's relationship with Clara. No way. Whoufleé will always be my OTP) but I think Danny is going to be an interesting character. And the moment where Clara slaps Twelve? PRICELESS. XD**

**Enjoy!**

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**Spy**

Taylor Oswald was trying very, very hard not to get caught, but it was growing increasingly difficult. For one, she needed to go use the bathroom and she was beginning to shift her weight from foot to foot from the building pressure. Secondly, she was wearing those really big sneakers that made her clomp around all the time. And last but not least, her parents were very quiet.

Yes, that was right – Taylor was trying to spy on her parents. She had gotten the idea of being a spy when she's older after watching a few spy movies with her father. And sadly, even though Taylor was incredibly excited about becoming the next best spy in the universe, there wasn't really much she could spy _on_. Her parents had made it a strict rule not to go wandering around the TARDIS by herself, (something about the TARDIS being cranky and mischievous sometimes…) which naturally limited the things for her to spy for.

So, that left her parents.

They were sitting on their bed – Mother's head was on Daddy's chest and he kept stroking her hair, murmuring words in such a quiet voice that Taylor couldn't catch any of it. The young girl crouched down, as if that would help the matter (or encourage any excitement), though sadly, it didn't.

Taylor looked down at her small notepad and pencil with a sad expression. Sticking her tongue out in between her teeth, she flipped open the pad and started to scribble what she thought read 'nothing happening'. (Though, actually, those 'words' were just a bunch of unintelligible scribbles and waves.)

There was a small sound from the bedroom and Taylor's head snapped up, only to sigh quietly in disappointment. Mother and Father were kissing again – lips held tightly against each other, sitting up in the bed, the entire nine yards. Taylor grimaced and added on the notepad, 'icky kisses.'

"Do you ever think of having another child, Doctor?" Taylor suddenly heard her mother say. She blinked, startled and looked back into the bedroom. With one hand, Mother was holding Daddy's wrist and with the other, she was tugging at the hem of his shirt, a teasing smile on her face.

Taylor's father had the same playful grin playing on his lips. "Comes across my mind from time to time," he admitted. He looked up at Mother. "But I'll only want one if _you _want one."

Mother hummed softly under her breath. "It'd be nice, don't you think?" She asked quietly.

"It would," Daddy agreed.

Taylor watched as they pressed their lips against each other's again. The young girl stuck her tongue out in disgust. She couldn't take any of this icky, mushy stuff anymore. Taylor ran into the room, flapping her notepad and pencil in fury. "This is boring!" She shouted.

Mother and Daddy both startled, jumping back and looking down at Taylor with wide eyes. "Taylor – what were you – why – Taylor, how long have you been –"

"I was _trying _to spy on you," Taylor said, exasperated and bouncing on her parents' bed. "But all you guys would do is kiss and talk about children, which I think is silly." Mother and Daddy exchanged odd, awkward looks before turning back to Taylor.

"It's not very polite to spy on people, Taylor," Daddy said gently and bringing her into his lap. Taylor pouted and showed her parents the notepad. "Well, it wasn't like I saw anything – see? It says that you just kissed!"

Daddy held up the notepad and after a few moments, he said calmly, "Ah. Sorry, Taylor – we didn't know you were there."

"And I think Daddy's shown you enough spy movies," Mother added, giving him a pointed stare. Daddy gave her a sheepish smile and bounced Taylor a bit in his lap, causing her to shriek. "Daddy, don't do that! I gotta go to the bathroom!" She said and immediately hopped off him to sprint out of the room.

Taylor only heard her parents laughing and giggling as she raced down the TARDIS' halls.

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**A/N - Ergh...not quite sure how this chapter turned out. This was more like a trip down Memory Lane for me. (I used to 'spy' on my parents because I had nothing better to do with my life. XD And my 'writing' were always just scribbles and waves. XD) And I just tossed in 'the extra child' bit just for the heck of it. (Or to imply that something else was going to happen if Taylor hadn't interrupted...whoops. Still innocent, though!) **

**Reviews are always great - constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	25. Guarantee

**Whoufleé feels. Whoufleé feels. Whoufleé feels. I've watched too many Whoufleé fanvids and now my heart is bleeding in feels. ****_Gah. _****I am not done with this ship! DANNY PINK I THINK YOU ARE AN AWESOME CHARACTER BUT PLEASE DON'T FLIRT WITH CLARA JUST YET. (Again, I have so many conflicted feelings over Danny Pink...although, the scene where he slammed his head on the desk was adorable. XD) **

**Enjoy this drabble! **

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**Guarantee**

Clara Oswald was aware of the Doctor's inner demons – she knew of the battles he fought inside and she knew of his fears and hate. She knew of the sadness that raged in his head and heart – she knew of how often he'd wish to take back certain moments of his life – she knew that he suffered from a great deal of loss and pain.

And most of all, Clara knew when all of those remarkable feelings would come crashing down on the Doctor. It wasn't that those occurrences happened frequently – in fact, they were about as rare as a lunar eclipse. However, just like the rare occasion of an eclipse, Clara was always sure to spot or sense it.

Like tonight, for example.

Clara was curled up beside the Doctor in their bed (she had finally convinced him to bother with sleep) when the first signs started to appear. The Doctor's arm, which had been slung around Clara's shoulders, suddenly stiffened. His entire body seemed to tighten and compress into a taut, pained position.

In her slumber, Clara could feel the Doctor's warm body roll away from her. She subconsciously frowned – where was he going? Sighing wearily, Clara forced herself to open her eyes. She scanned the bed and sure enough, the Doctor wasn't lying beside her. Rather, he was sitting on the floor, his head in his hands.

"Doctor?" Clara whispered, sliding off the bed to sit by him. "Hey – is everything alright?"

There were a few beats of silence. The Doctor removed his hands from his face, revealing the thin film of sweat over his skin. His face was pale and his entire body was trembling with such light precision that if Clara hadn't been so worried, she wouldn't have noticed the movements.

"What happened?" Clara asked softly, taking his hands and scanning his face carefully.

The Doctor swallowed and letting out a quiet, choking sob, he rested his head against Clara's shoulder. Clara bit down on her lip and immediately brought her hands around his back. She made soothing, circling motions with her hand as the Doctor shook in her arms.

"What happened?" Clara repeated gently. "What's wrong?"

The Doctor wrapped his arms tightly around Clara, as if she would fade away any minute. "Promise me, Clara," he whispered frantically. "Promise me that you'll stay safe. That you'll keep Taylor and yourself safe. Please."

Clara sighed and relaxed her head over the Doctor's shoulder. "You know that we'll keep Taylor safe – and Doctor, as long as we're with you, we'll always be safe." She said quietly. "You know that."

"Not always," the Doctor murmured. "You're not always safe. Things happen. People leave. People fade. And I won't be able to do anything –"

Clara tightened her grip on the Doctor. "We _are _safe." She replied. She brought her head away to look at the Doctor. His eyes slowly lifted to meet hers, which stared at him fiercely. "And no one will take Taylor and me away from you – not if I have any say in it."

"You can't promise that." The Doctor said quietly.

Clara smiled. "Who says I can't?" She whispered, planting a small kiss on his forehead. "I'll make the promise over and over again just to get it through your head. It's called love, Chin Boy. Get used to it."

The Doctor let out a weak laugh and replied, "I'll try, Impossible Girl."

"Good." Clara murmured, locking the Doctor into another embrace.

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**A/N - Anyone else dreading the episode Clara leaves/dies? I've heard the rumors about Jenna Coleman leaving in season eight, but from other rumors/spoilers I've heard, she might not. I've also heard that Jenna didn't confirm those rumors to be true, but...gah, I sincerely hope she stays - at least until half of season nine, so she can have a complete two seasons worth of episodes instead of one and a half. Geezum. **

**Reviews are always awesome! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not. **


	26. Help

**Urk. So...I am officially more than halfway done with this story. O.O What about that, huh? And good timing, too, since I'm going to school in ****_two days. _*****screams into pillow* What. The. Actual. Heck. Can I please have a bit more of summer break to cram in more chapters, please? **

**Anyways, I'm not quite sure where the heck this chapter came from...*sighs* Oh, well. I tried. XD **

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**Help**

Everyone knew that Clara Oswald didn't like asking for help with anything – whether it was riding her bicycle or getting on a horse or a badly marked test. She was simply too proud to seek for assistance. And who could blame her? Asking for help from a teacher or a fellow student or a neighbor always appeared to be humiliating to any average person. And _anyone _could tell a passerby that Clara Oswald wasn't _just average. _

In fact, Clara Oswald was so independent that she had built herself such that of a reputation in Coal Hill School. So, you could imagine the entire staff's surprise when Clara was accepting help from a fairly young, dark-haired man. He was wearing a purple tweed coat, a matching bowtie, and had a set of green-brown eyes that shone impressively at Clara. (Most of the female teachers grew immensely jealous of Clara after watching her with her little friend.)

However, the fact that the staff was watching Clara went unknown for the young teacher.

xXx

"I'm _telling _you, Doctor, I don't need help on the lesson plans!" Clara said indignantly over her shoulder. The Doctor groaned, following her down the hallway. "But it'd be easier to help you out – it'll be quicker, too! And then we can go, go, go –"

Clara turned around with crossed arms. "Why so eager to help me out, anyways?"

"I'm bored." The Doctor groaned pathetically, throwing his arms around Clara's shoulders. "I'm bored, I'm bored, I'm bored, and I don't have anyone to keep me company in the TARDIS."

"Oh, dear _God_," Clara sighed. "You are _such _a child when it comes to these sorts of things, do you know that?"

The Doctor perked up, smiling toothily at Clara. "So, does that mean you'll let me help you? You're sympathizing with me, right? That's what people usually do! They insult the victim and –"

"First of all, _no, _I'm _still _not letting you help me and second of all – _victim? _Dramatic, much?" Clara snorted, whirling around to unlock her classroom door. The Doctor harrumphed, leaning against the wall. "How many lesson plans do you have to get through to, anyways?" He asked.

Clara frowned, tapping her chin. "Maybe…seven? You know, just a week's worth," she replied and winced, swinging open the door. "And I might have to organize several teacher-parent meetings. There have been a few more failing students than I would like and I want to see if their parents are aware of it."

The Doctor threw his hands up in the air. "Well, the parents _have _to be aware of it! They're the children's _parents_, aren't they?" He asked, exasperated. Clara pressed her lips tightly together, already making her way to her desk. "Not all parents are interested in how their children are doing in school, Doctor – and it's up to the teachers to make sure that the parents could at least _try _to help them."

She sighed and started to go through her desk drawers. "It's not always a problem, though – most parents are usually concerned about how their child is doing in school."

"There you go! Not always a problem! No need to add on the teacher-parent meetings!" The Doctor said cheerfully, drumming his fingers against the desk. Clara glared at the Doctor, plopping herself down in her seat and spreading out a few binders and notebooks. "I said _not_ _all parents_, didn't I?"

The Doctor groaned again, flopping dramatically onto one of the student desks. "We'll be here forever at this rate, if you keep dragging on that process for that long." He said, emitting a sad sigh from his lips.

"Keep calm, Chin Boy – it'll take some time. Besides, waiting for a few hours can't really kill you, can it? I'm _sure _you've had someone wait for _you _for a few hours." Clara said, lifting an eyebrow at the Doctor. In return, the Doctor cringed and mumbled something that sounded like, "Actually, more like a few _years._"

Clara's lips parted in bewilderment, though she quickly chose to lift her hands up in surrender. "I don't really want to know," she replied slowly and looked back down at her binder. She hummed quietly under her breath, scanning through her notes and ideas. She wanted to teach the children about Roman and Greek literature, but there was also the entire concept of introducing one of the later books of the English curriculum – and Clara desperately wanted to finish with all of the books before the end of the year. (She had seen other English teachers flounder and flop when they weren't able to finish up the books on time.)

Before Clara could make a proper decision, her binders were snatched away from her desk. "Save that for later, teach the kids this lesson tomorrow – you should probably teach the kids this thing for the day after tomorrow. It'd be a nice follow-up, you see – ooh, save _that _for much, much later…." The Doctor murmured, flipping through page after page.

Clara blinked at him, wide-eyed and asked, "Since when were you able to organize lesson plans?"

"I'm good at organizing things!" The Doctor said, looking up at Clara with a wounded expression. "And besides, I've had some friends who were teachers once. I know how this all works. See? I'm not a mess and I'm not completely useless and this sort of thing!"

The Doctor handed back a few more papers. "You might want to look those over – I'm not quite sure what your opinion on the teacher-parent meetings should be." He said simply and looked back down at the binder.

Clara hesitated for a moment, though when the Doctor seemed rather absorbed in his current work, the young woman drew out a small sigh and looked down at the papers. A small smile tugged at her lips – she might as well accept his assistance.

* * *

**A/N - Again, I tried. XD **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not!**


	27. Leader

**Übershort drabble for today, folks. Tomorrow's my first day of school, so...I sort of whipped this thing together. :/ And to answer any questions, I won't be continuing this story after Ch. 50 because I only have 50 words - and I don't want to make another story with it because of school and I'm not quite sure if I'm up to writing daily chapters with homework and schoolwork on my back. :/**

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**Leader**

They were leaders.

The way their eyes flashed with such determination and ferocity. The way they shouted for a change. The way they helped hundreds – possibly thousands, possibly millions and billions – of people get out of bad places. The way they were constantly rescuing worlds. The way they seemed to work together in unison. The way how people would watch them with such admiration.

Clara Oswald and the Doctor were leaders. They were strong and brave and loving all at once.

And Taylor Oswald was proud to be their daughter. And she was even happier to know that one day, she would be just like her parents.

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**A/N - Told ya it was short. Reviews would be awesome - constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	28. Crowd

**I'm so ****_tiiiiiired..._*****moans* I've been running around a humongous high school throughout the majority of the day and only had a granola bar and Snapple tea for lunch. ****_What the actual heck am I doing as a freshman. _****Hopefully, I'll get more used to this stuff as the days go along. XD This drabble is übershort, but I hope you'll like it, anyways! **

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**Crowd**

Six years old Taylor Oswald was surrounded by a crowd of people, but she wasn't scared. Her hands were clutched in her mother and father's hands, and they wouldn't let her wander off. They kept her warm and they kept her safe. Taylor had watched other children get separated from their parents and she always felt bad for them. When she asked why they'd always get lost, her father would simply reply that their parents couldn't hold onto them tightly enough.

The parents always found their children, though – Taylor had seen that, too. However, she always wondered why on earth parents would have to find their children in the first place. It seemed much easier to keep them close.

"Some children don't always have as loving parents, Taylor," Mother would say quietly when Taylor pointed that out. "Some children get lost in the crowd because the parents don't always pay attention."

So now, as Taylor was being held between her mother and father, she was grateful for parents who loved her and paid enough attention to her so she wouldn't get lost.

As long as she was with her parents, she wouldn't _ever _get lost – and there wouldn't _ever _be a crowd too big for her to wander off in.

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**A/N - Reviews are always great - constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	29. Rank

**Another chapter! Gosh, high school is a mix of amazing and frustrating. O.O I'll try to cram in as much writing as I can during the weekend so I won't have to focus on writing during the weekdays, but we'll have to see. **

**Enjoy! **

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**Rank**

If there was one thing that Clara and the Doctor were good at, it was arguing. Or at least, playful banter. Wait – correction – playful banter only found in _marriages. Yes, that _kind of banter. Light-hearted, not-so-serious arguments and protests were common in the TARDIS.

And most of the time, it started and ended the same way – the Doctor claiming that he's correct and Clara acting like…well, _Clara. _

Today, in fact, was one of those days in which the married couple began their little playful banter, only this time, it seemed to revolve around rankings and roles. (This, by the way, was always quite interesting for Clara to argue against.)

"Where are you going?" The Doctor asked as Clara bounded over to the TARDIS doors. She turned around to look at her husband, eyebrows raised. "I'm going outside – first time going to the second Roman Empire, yeah? Might as well pop out first!" She said cheerfully. The Doctor pouted, quickly running up to the door. He leaned against it and replied, "_No! _You shouldn't go out first!"

Clara frowned, crossing her arms. "What happened to the _ladies first _rule?" She asked lightly.

The Doctor paused, searching for an answer. A few seconds later, he replied, "I'm the Doctor – Doctor beats ladies!" He started to pull open the door but was quickly stumped as Clara yanked his hand back.

"Mm-hm – yes, well, Doctor, wouldn't you say that you're abusing your position?" Clara asked. The Doctor frowned. "Abusing? I wouldn't call this abusing!" He said indignantly. Clara rolled her eyes and propped open the door. She leaned out and smiled. Tossing her head back to look at the Doctor, she said in a sing-song voice, "For the record, _wife _beats the Doctor."

The Doctor's jaw dropped open as Clara ran out of the TARDIS doors. "Hey! No! Not fair!" The Doctor called after her, but Clara simply laughed off his complaints.

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**A/N - Wife beats _Doctor. _;) **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	30. Diary

**Wow, just twenty more chapters of this story. O.O Huh. How time flies! Er - just a notice - _no, _I'm not taking requests. Sorry. Just...due to the amount of schoolwork that I'm getting these days, I've decided to just go on and write five days' worth of chapters per weekend, and therefore, I don't really have time for additional prompts and requests. Again, sorry. :/ **

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**Diary**

When a small, tattered, leather-bound book fell from the TARDIS' library's bookshelves, Clara Oswald didn't know what to expect. Maybe this book held stories of great knights and wizards and warlocks – maybe it was a boring, dull almanac about weeding and the joys of gardening. Or maybe it was just a simple dictionary – a carrier of senseless, useless words.

_Enough with the guessing, _Clara thought to herself and flipped open the book. For a few minutes, she couldn't do much except stare at the yellow, worn pages of the book. It wasn't until she blinked a few times did she manage to make sense of the lettering before her.

As Clara flipped through the pages, the handwriting varied and changed. The marks of the writing utensil that was used to write in the book changed as well – sometimes, there were words written in a simple graphite pencil, other times, expensive-feeling, blue ink of a pen. At one point, there were an entire fifteen pages of words written in pink, sparkly ink.

Clara giggled and traced over the ink for a few moments before flipping to the next page. Slowly, Clara's eyes slid away from the actual color and quality of the marks and got down to reading the actual words instead. Almost instantly, Clara had the strong sense of who this book belonged to.

_Clara told me I had a big chin (again) today. I do _not _have a big chin! Do I really have a big chin? Amy and Rory never said I had a big chin. _

_…Amy and Rory. Hm. Wonder how they're doing now. _

_…_

_Anyways. _

_My chin is _perfectly _fine! F-I-N-E fine! I don't see what's so bad about it…yes, it's a bit large, but it can't be so bad to poke someone's eye out, can it? _

"Yes, it can, Chin Boy," Clara whispered fondly, slowly sliding down to the floor. "You'll poke someone's eye out with that oh-so-big chin of yours." She fingered over to the next page, which revealed the same, similar handwriting of none other than the famous Chin Boy himself.

_Clara keeps looking at me funny. I'm not quite sure if I like it or not. Why do people stare at each other that way? Does she like me? Do I look like that when _I _look at her? Hm… _

_What look? _Clara wondered, frowning down at the book. _I don't have a look – do I look at the Doctor funny? _Her frown deepened. _Because really, I don't think the Doctor looks _that _odd. Except for the chin, of course. _She smiled. _But it's a good chin. A funny, odd, large one, but it's a nice. Familiar. _

Clara skipped through the next few entries before landing on another one –

_I think I might have a problem with Clara. _

"What problem?" Clara whispered, staring down at the sentence with wide eyes.

_She's beginning to distract me. I can't _focus _and all I want to _do _is focus but she's right there! Is she tricking me into focusing on her? And why is her skirt too tight? And why does she always smile like that? I promised myself that I wouldn't, but I think I'm starting to – _

"Oi! What are you looking at?" A loud voice yelped, and seconds later, the book was rather abruptly pulled out of Clara's hands. The brunette blinked, surprised, and looked up at the owner of the voice – the Doctor. "I was reading that!" Clara said crossly, pushing herself off the floor.

The Doctor stuck his tongue out at Clara before tucking the book in his pocket. "Well, if you were reading it, you'd know that it's _mine! _Not yours to read! Not for public eyes to see!"

"If no one else was supposed to read the book, why was it in the library?" Clara asked, folding her arms over her chest. The Doctor tossed his hands up in the air. "Why does anything have to be anywhere?" He retorted and added, "Just…don't look at it again! Understood?"

Clara rolled her eyes. "I don't understand why you're so protective of that thing – is it your diary or something?"

The Doctor looked wounded. "It is not a _diary _– it's a log for my daily –"

"_That's a diary," _Clara interrupted, shaking her head. She skipped away from the Doctor, who started arguing, "It is _not _a diary!"

"Yes, it is!"

* * *

**A/N - I...don't know where the heck this came from. I was bored. XD **

**Reviews are great! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	31. Umbrella

**_Robot of Sherwood _was a great episode! I guess it's not really my favorite, but I _did _have tons of favorite parts. (The Doctor falling into the stream...Clara yanking back the Doctor with the chains! Oh, I laughed _so _hard at that. XD Um...Robin and the Doctor bickering and poor Clara is just going out of her mind.) Again, I don't think it's on my favorite _Doctor Who _episodes list, but it was still pretty good. XD  
**

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**Umbrella**

Clara Oswald was cold and wet to the bone. Her jacket, which she had taken such a long time choosing, was soaked with rainwater and her dress hugged at her legs and hung limply at the hem. Clara's hair was completely damp as well, and she was miserable. At this point, she wasn't even sure if the wetness she felt on her cheeks was from the rain or simply tears. Probably the tears.

And _why _was Clara so miserable? Not only was she caught in this awful weather, but she had managed to flop in a job interview. She had been hoping, hoping, _hoping _to get a job as an English teacher for Coal Hill School, but today wasn't exactly her luckiest day. For one, she showed up twenty minutes _late _and spent the first two minutes trying to find her notes for the principal to see. The rest of the questioning went along fine, that is…until Clara's phone began ringing.

And the most embarrassing part of it all was that Clara _actually panicked _and _pretended _that it wasn't her phone. For the first few minutes, that strategy actually worked – until the voice message started to play.

_"Clara, why aren't you picking up your phone? It's your dad – did you know about what the government is planning on doing –" _

Obviously, the rest of the interview wasn't exactly the stellar, immediate success that Clara had been hoping for. So now, she was beyond frustrated and sad – she didn't have a proper job. (The Maitlands decided that they didn't need a babysitter anymore – and Clara had already managed to find an apartment, though again, it wasn't quite the same. Clara missed Angie and Artie.)

Clara couldn't even catch a cab, either, because she didn't have enough money to get herself back to the apartment. She was afraid to take out her wallet as well, especially since it was raining so hard. At this point, Clara wasn't even really walking – she was more so trudging and scuffing her (water-logged) boots through the streets. She had given up avoiding puddles a while ago.

Wiping at her eyes, Clara took another few steps before sinking to her knees and burying her head in her lap. These were one of the days in which _nothing_ – _nothing at all _– seemed to be going right for her. _She _was supposed to be in control of the day – _this was supposed to be a good day _– but somehow, everything just _had _to fall apart for her.

None of the other pedestrians seemed too concerned about what a young, sobbing brunette would be doing on the street either, for they all walked on with blank or cool expressions. This small action only seemed to reduce Clara into even harder sobs.

This was pathetic – a small part of herself was telling her to _get up_, brush away those tears, and storm to her apartment as if her life depended on it. (Because in some ways, it _does._)

But apparently, that small part of herself was just much too small, because Clara didn't move a single inch. She was tired and aching all over and just wanted to go _home _and be somewhere _safe_. She wanted _something _to go right for her. She wanted…she wanted…

Suddenly, the rain stopped hitting Clara from overhead. But no – she could still hear the rain in the background. What was going on? She stiffened and slowly lifted her head from her lap, only to look up at the Doctor's warm, sympathetic face and a blue umbrella towering over the two of them.

"You know, it's not really healthy for you to stay out in the rain." The Doctor said, offering a hand. Clara forced a feeble laugh, though she took the Doctor's hand and pulled herself up. "If you've had the day I've been having, you wouldn't care too much about health," Clara replied, rubbing her hands over her face.

"Try me," the Doctor said, smiling.

Clara looked up and puffed out a sigh. "It's just…one of the days when everything goes awfully, horribly wrong." She said slowly. She stuck out her hand in the rain and added, "And if it wasn't bad enough, the _weather _is just _perfect _for making you feel more pathetic than before."

She felt tears threatening again – it was all too much, too much for her. She couldn't bring herself together – not today, and probably not tomorrow, either. Clara chewed down on her lip and looked up at the umbrella, her brain whispering, _don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry…_

"Rain isn't all that bad," the Doctor said, his voice not drifting far from his usual cheerful tone. He poked his head out from the umbrella, eyes shining. "Rain gives the extra life for plants. Children are able to play in the puddles. Parents go insane about the mess the children bring in – but that's what they do as parents, yeah?" He laughed. "And it even _sounds _nice! In fact, most people would be...they would be _inspired _by that noise! It's like…like a –"

Clara couldn't help herself. A small, strangled sob escaped her lips and she threw her head into her hands. The Doctor fell quiet immediately. His expression softened and he gently patted Clara's shoulder. "Hey," he whispered weakly, "if you don't like rain, I wouldn't mind…"

Under different circumstances, Clara would have giggled at those words. Even if she was having a horrible day, Clara would have at least managed a _small _laugh. But today was simply the worst. This was possibly one of the harder days of Clara's life, and though she was sure that others had it _much _worse than her, today was just…something that Clara wanted to be over with already.

So Clara couldn't laugh. She couldn't smile at the Doctor's words or giggle or show any signs of potential appreciation of his attempted humor. Instead, she simply buried her head in his shoulder and allowed her tears to slide down her cheeks and onto his jacket.

The Doctor, to Clara's relief, didn't stiffen or push her away or do anything rude and/or impolite of the sort. In fact, he did the exact opposite. He seemed to actually welcome the gesture – he gently wrapped an arm around her back, bringing her closer to him and making soothing, comforting _hush_ing sounds.

Clara would have felt ridiculous if this was to happen to her – but again, she wasn't in her right mind. She clung tightly to the Doctor, sobbing out a jumble of words that sounded vaguely something like, "_Failed job…babysit…room…rain…wet…ph'call!_"

If the Doctor was confused by Clara's choice of words, he didn't show it. He simply squeezed his arm tighter around her waist and murmured, "It's alright…it's fine now…we can go back and talk more about it, yeah? See?"

Clara spent a few more minutes of trying to control the remaining tears that were willing to let themselves free from her eyes (all the while, the Doctor remained as calm and patient as ever,) and finally gave the Doctor a shuddery nod. "Alright," she replied, slowly separating herself from the Doctor.

However, just as Clara was about to let go of the Doctor's arm, the Doctor started walking. He slid his hand to Clara's hand, holding it tightly. He planted a small kiss on her knuckles and adjusted the grip on his umbrella. "Come, Miss Oswald," he said formally. "We have much to discuss over some tea and Jammy Dodgers."

Clara couldn't agree more. She simply squeezed the Doctor's hand back in return.

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**A/N - Oh, come off it - we've all had those miserable days. Those wretched, awful days when everything seems to go wrong and no one's on your side...and then there's the Doctor! :) **

**Reviews are always great - constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not. **


	32. Knack

**Random, strange factoid about moi - if I ever have kids, I want to have a family tradition of making a souffle with them once a month. ****_Souffles. _****I actually want to try baking one ****_right now_****, and the fact that I keep looking up how-to-make-souffle videos isn't exactly helping the sudden interest, either. XD So...this chapter came about. Ish. **

**Enjoy! **

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**Knack**

Clara Oswald had a knack for making the perfect soufflés. She had been making them with her mother ever since she was old enough to walk and talk. (Well, she wasn't really _making _them with her mother at that point – more like handing her mother the whisk and the bowls and the ingredients…and sneaking a few chocolate chips or strawberries or what other sweets were available into her mouth.)

As Clara grew older, she perfected the art of making soufflés – there were a few bad ones here and there, but for the most part, none of them were ever burnt or out of shape or _anything. _

And today, Clara was going to prove that particular skill of soufflé making to the Doctor. She was standing in the TARDIS kitchen, pulling out small pots and ingredients and other necessary bits of equipment from the cupboard and pantry and cabinets. The Doctor, on the other hand, was leaning against the counter, watching Clara with a look of…awe? Wonder? Curiosity? It was hard to tell. Maybe the Doctor was amused…

Clara pretended that she couldn't notice the Doctor leaning on the counter. She casually started to grease the ramekins up with butter, humming lightly under her breath as she did so. It wasn't really that easy to get lost in the world of her soufflé making, actually – her breathing got easier. Her thoughts calmed. The stress in her shoulders relaxed. There was something about soufflé making that always made Clara feel better – perhaps it was because soufflé making was associated with the memory of her beloved mother…or maybe she just had a natural skill at it. Either way, Clara was glad to make one for the Doctor.

After coating the insides of the ramekins with sugar, Clara turned to the other ingredients. She took out two oval eggs and cracked each one carefully, making sure to separate the yolks from the white into different pots. (In her earlier years, Clara used to fail multiple times in this part of the procedure.)

She turned to the oven, flicking it to heat at a scorching 375 degrees. After a few moments of having the oven being heated up, Clara turned to another pot and started to throw some chocolate inside. She moved it to the stovetop and watched it melt for a while before turning to the Doctor. His gaze had not faltered once since Clara started her little procedure.

"What?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow. The Doctor shrugged his shoulders, a small, goofy smile playing on his lips. "It's just…I've never seen you quite so quiet or calm about something before," he said slowly. Clara rolled her eyes, though she was laughing lightly under her breath.

"Soufflés are my thing," Clara said softly, turning to the pot with the egg whites. She pushed it onto another part of the stovetop, dumping lemon and sugar at the same time. She picked up her whisk and started beating quickly at the mixture. "Kind of like how…time-traveling is your thing…or being the Doctor," she added after a moment of silence.

The Doctor smiled at that, though he didn't put in any other comments. Clara paused and took a few seconds to stare at the Doctor – he was looking more casual that she had ever seen him in quite some time. And she appreciated that quite a lot.

Breathing in a quick breath, Clara went back to beating until the mixture formed stiff, tall peaks. She slowly dumped the mixture into the now-melted chocolate and waited for it to heat up for a few more minutes before dragging the product into the ramekins.

After loading the ramekins onto a tray, Clara pushed the objects into the oven and sat back on the counter next to the Doctor. "Now," she said slowly, "we wait."

The Doctor nodded and glanced back at Clara. "You have…something on your face." He said quietly, leaning over to examine Clara. The brunette frowned. "What? Where?" She asked, lifting a hand to brush away any traces of the ingredients from her face.

"No, I think I've got it…" The Doctor murmured and reaching up, he stroke away a small, gooey bit of egg white from Clara's forehead. He smiled and lifted it up for the brunette to say. She grimaced and murmured, "I used to get egg white on myself all the time…either that, or chocolate or something."

"Hm…well, you were right about the chocolate part…" The Doctor nodded. Clara frowned again. "Where is it?"

"Right here," the Doctor said quietly and pressed a gentle kiss to Clara's lips. Stunned, the brunette stiffened at the sudden move. She felt the Doctor wrap his arms around her waist and giving in, Clara pushed herself closer to him. She wrapped her hands around his neck and mumbled against his lips, "What, do soufflés make me more kissable?"

"Mm…it certainly does have a certain note to it all…" The Doctor replied, his voice just as sluggish and quiet. Clara smiled and leaned against him, forcing him to push back against the counter. She tangled her legs with his and separated herself from his lips. Clara however, was not quite finished with him. She fingered the Doctor's jaw, an impish, teasing grin on her face.

"Well…what do you say, Doctor? More kissable?" Clara whispered sneakily in his ear.

…the soufflés burned. But frankly, it could be said that the Doctor and Clara didn't really care. They were too busy to notice much.

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**A/N - Oh, come on, ladies - I know _some _of you want your boyfriend/husband flirting with you like that if you're making a souffle. XD (Boys, if you're reading this, take some notes! ;)) _I _would personally go crazy if my future boyfriend/husband started to act like that. Gah, Clara's a lucky, lucky woman. **

**Reviews are awesome! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not!**


	33. Tea

**...I don't know where the heck this came from. I think I wrote this while bored, so...ha, that's not always a good combination. O.O It may not be the best, but I hope ya'll find it at least a BIT satisfying, anyways! **

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**Tea**

Drinking tea with the Doctor wasn't always an every-day experience for Clara. It wasn't that she didn't like tea – she found the occasional cup soothing and relaxing, especially with a good book or movie. But the Doctor liked tea for different reasons, apparently.

"It's good!" The Doctor said enthusiastically, pouring Clara a cup. "And it wakes you up when you feel all sleepy and tired after a long, long day…"

Clara raised an eyebrow, though she took the cup with a small smile. "I thought you never got tired," she commented, bringing it to her lips. The Doctor grinned, stirring his own cup of tea with a small stick. "All living things get tired," he replied. "So I do, too, I suppose."

Clara stared at the Doctor quizzically. "Then why is it that I never see you sleep?"

The Doctor lifted the cup. "'Cause I keep myself awake all the time!" He said, laughing. Clara snorted, taking another sip of tea. "That can_not _be healthy," she said humorously. "People can't stay awake for that long." The Doctor shrugged, sitting down at the table and cradling the cup in his hands. "Well, _humans _probably can't, but _Time Lords _have enough energy."

Clara smiled. "Time Lords or _you?_" She asked, toying with the cup handle. "I've got the oddest feeling that even in Gallifrey, you were a…more _energetic _kind of Time Lord." The Doctor beamed at Clara. "Well, of _course _I'm a more energetic kind of Time Lord! It's a bit like how you're…a bossier kind of human!"

"Oi! Come on, don't drag _me _into that conversation!" Clara said, smacking the Doctor lightly on the arm. "We're having tea – tea is for _peaceful _conversation and talk. Not banter and silly remarks about one another."

"Ooh, properly British you are, aren't you?" The Doctor teased, though he quickly scooted out of Clara's reach in case she would slap him again.

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**A/N - Playful banter? *shrugs* Dunno anymore. But honest-to-goodness, Whoufleé has taken over my life. I was actually reading a bunch of Whoufleé fics on my phone this morning before class started because a) I really, really wanted to read more of _Nuclear Seasons _by bluetored (if you haven't checked out her Whoufleé stories already, what the heck are you waiting for? Read them NOW!) b) I was bored and c) I NEEDED MY DAILY DOSAGE OF WHOUFLEÉ. GAAAAH. (Dear classmates - if you were wondering why the heck I was grinning like an idiot at my phone at my locker, now you know why...) **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	34. Don't Make People into Heroes

**Don't ever listen to ****_Goodbye, Ponds_**** by Murray Gold whilst doing homework. Will result in crying all over the paper. And make big, wet tear marks. (Uh-oh...I have no idea how I'm gonna explain ****_that _****one to my biology teacher. XD) Oh, the feels...**

**This is drabble-length (again...*sigh*) but I hope you like it, anyways! **

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**"Don't Make People into Heroes" **

"You can _save _them, Doctor!" Clara shouted as the Doctor tugged her along the hallway. She yanked her hand back furiously, fighting the urge to claw and fight him. (Which she had been doing in the past few minutes – she was surprised that the Doctor hadn't complained yet.)

The Doctor whirled around, his face scrawled with such intense lines that Clara wondered for a moment if he was physically aging before her eyes. "I can_not _save them right now, Clara!" He yelled. "I only barely got _you _out – how would I be able to get _those _people out?" He pointed at the crowd of empty-eyed, moaning people that was slowly bumping around the walls.

Clara breathed heavily through her nose. "You've _always _been able to save people, even in the worst scenarios!" She took a step towards the Doctor, her eyes glaring up at him. "You _know _you can save them – you're just…_scared_." She bit out. The Doctor scowled at Clara. "Don't _ever _call me that again," he growled with such ferocity that Clara was moved to take a half-step back.

"It's true, though, isn't it? Doctor, just because it was harder for you to get me out doesn't mean it'll be worse to free everyone else." Clara said slowly. She searched the Doctor's face, eyes wide. "You can _do _this, Doctor – you've always been able to. Why stop now?"

The Doctor ran his hands through his hair, clearly agitated. "_A hundred years,_" he whispered. Clara frowned. "What?" She asked, bewildered. The Doctor glared at Clara. "A hundred years – that's how long you've been here. You don't look it, but you've been gone for a _hundred years." _

Clara stared at the Doctor, stunned. "No," she said, extending her hands. There weren't any veins or knots or any signs of matured skin – her hands remained as smooth and pale as ever, just as always they had. The Doctor gripped Clara's shoulders. "It's true – a hundred years of _waiting _and _trying to get you out_. Do you _want _me to repeat that?" He slowly let go and added, "Don't make people into heroes, Clara – because I'm _not one. _I can't save everyone."

Clara let out a low, shaky breath. _A hundred years _– had it really been that long? It only felt like a few hours for her. She stared back at the Doctor, whose head was tilted down to the floor. His shoulders were rounded over and for that single moment, Clara could see how tired and weary he was – a hundred years of waiting…and trying to get her out.

That really _was_ something.

Clara swallowed and dropped her hand into the Doctor's, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "No," she murmured. "I can't make you into a hero – but you a_re _one." When the Doctor looked back up, a watery smile formed on Clara's lips. "Trust me," she whispered. "I know."

"How can you be so sure?" The Doctor asked quietly.

Clara's heart squeezed in affection at his words. She let out a small, quiet laugh and replied, "Because I've seen you being a hero from the very start, remember? Millions of millions of my echoes…watching you save lives all at the same time." She looked at him in the eye and added, "_I know." _

A smile twinged at the Doctor's lips. "My Clara," he murmured, planting a small kiss on her knuckles. "Always has a way of making people know who they are. Am I right?"

Clara grinned and nodded. She turned back to the people and whispered, "What do you say, Doctor? Time to be a hero now?"

The Doctor, still beaming, withdrew his sonic from his pocket. He flung it in the air and catching it with the same hand, he laughed under his breath. "Geronimo," he said brightly.

* * *

**A/N - *shouts* Doctor, Rory waited for two thousand years, so really, a hundred years shouldn't be that bad...*pauses and waits for Whoufleé feels to kick in* ACTUALLY, YES, WAIT FOR CLARA OSWALD BECAUSE IT'S TRUE LOVE, DO YOU HEAR ME?! (If you couldn't tell, I'm still not abandoning this ship! *pumps fist in the air* VIVA LA WHOUFLEÉ!) **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not!**


	35. Fuse

**Drabble-length chapter again. Sorry. :/ **

**I hope ya'll enjoy! **

* * *

**Fuse**

A human life could burn like a fuse of a dynamite stick.

As the Doctor watched Clara direct the crowd of people into a large spaceship to depart from the acid-ridden planet, he hoped that Clara's life would never burn out. She was too beautiful to go out – too bright, too kind and too _original _to leave the universe.

But just like the fuse of a dynamite stick, the Doctor had the oddest feeling that when Clara _did _leave (they all do…), she would make her exit unforgettable.

The Doctor, needless to say, wasn't quite sure whether he liked that concept or not.

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**A/N - I don't want Clara to leave. :'( But if she does leave, I know that her exit will be unforgettable. And we'll cry for years and years over it. **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not. **


	36. Torture

**This would take place in the ****_Name of the Doctor. _****Does anyone else enjoy some Eleven!whump, or is that just me? I dunno - I always liked whump. X3 **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

**Torture**

Listening to the Doctor cry out _repeatedly _in pain was a horrific experience for Clara. She wasn't quite sure what she didn't like less – the constant pounding of her heart as she watched the Doctor jerk around, or the fact that the Doctor was honest-to-God _screaming _or the simple concept that the Doctor was dying _millions and millions of times over and over and over again. _

Clara rolled the Doctor over on his back, only barely holding up his head with a hand. She looked at the red, shining, tube-like structure of the Doctor's time-stream with wide eyes. Simeon – the Great Intelligence, whatever – had just jumped into it. _Actually jumped into it. _

And now he was killing the Doctor time after time again. Clara's head hurt just to _think _about the pain that the Doctor was going through.

It was pure, evil-hearted _torture. _Clara didn't even _care _that the Doctor might have done a few bad things back when he was younger – she really, really didn't care about that. Right now, she only worried about what would become of the Doctor if he wasn't somehow _saved. _

Clara grit her teeth and stared defiantly at the time-stream. Surely, there had to be a way to save the Doctor…just once…after all the times that he saved her…

_A million copies all killing the Doctor at the same time, _Clara thought to herself. _A million copies…but what if there were a million copies who could _save_ the Doctor at the same time? _

At that moment, everything seemed to click into place – _a girl in the Dalek Asylum. A girl in Victorian London. I've done this before, haven't I? A million copies…millions and millions…_

Clara knew what she had to do.

* * *

**A/N - Listening to _Sky's Still Blue _by Andrew Belle while writing this little piece really helped. Not quite sure why. Music has that strange effect on writing, doesn't it? **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not. **


	37. Exhaustion

**I know, I know - I've already written a Whoufleé thing called _Exhaustion_, but that was released before I knew what this prompt would be. XD Sorry...? This chapter has a different scenario from that one-shot, though. :) **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

**Exhaustion**

Sitting up late wasn't exactly the first thing that Clara Oswald wanted to do on a Wednesday night. To be quite honest, she wanted to finish grading a few pop quizzes and perhaps curl up to a movie tonight - but instead, she was sitting next to the Doctor and trying to keep watch on a group of people.

According to the Doctor, they were a group of alien-activists who wanted to take a look out over Earth before they could take it over. (Sounded very cliché, yes, but Clara supposed that cliché sci-fi movie-material things were bound to happen when traveling with the Doctor.)

And so here she was, sitting on a park bench and trying not to nod off to the darkness of the sky or the twinkling lights of the stars. But it was hard – Clara didn't have much to do except stare up at the night sky above. The Doctor was sitting next to her, though he didn't show any signs of weariness. (Clara thought he wouldn't – he never seemed to sleep, after all.)

His hands were clasped together on his lap, his eyes staring intently at the stars. Clara breathed deeply and managed to murmur, "They're pretty, aren't they?"

The Doctor blinked, and, looking back down at Clara, smiled. "They are," he agreed. "Though they're prettier up close. I'll have to show you the…stars up close one day. Did I ever tell of you this planet that had the best and largest observatory in the galaxy? You could see just about anything up there – stars, moons, comets…only you don't just see the surface. You can see every particle, every cell –"

"Cells only make up living things," Clara interrupted sleepily, fighting back the urge to yawn. The Doctor smiled. "You can't be so sure," he replied lightly. "Don't you ever wonder why there's that legend about falling stars? What do you think makes them fall?"

This time, Clara actually yawned. She let her head fall back against the bench and stared up at the sky. "Well…isn't there that entire gravity thing?" She murmured. She remembered learning about something to do with falling stars and meteors and asteroids back in a science class long ago…though she couldn't recall the exact facts.

"Those are only some of the falling stars," the Doctor replied, his voice softening. "But there are other stars – other stars that aren't stars at all." Clara smiled and listened to the Doctor beginning to talk of beings from other worlds coming to Earth not to harm or destruct, but to help and provide hope.

It all sounded like a silly fairy tale, to be truthful, but Clara was so very tired that she couldn't bother to make any other interruptions. In fact, this moment was beginning to shape itself into something that reminded Clara of bedtime stories with her mum.

And while no one could replace the wonderful stories that Clara's mum told, this was…in some ways, a bit better. Or maybe that was just the sleep affecting Clara's thoughts.

A small sigh escaped her lips and without properly realizing it, Clara drifted off to sleep to the sound of the Doctor's soothing voice.

Meanwhile, the Doctor continued his tale of alien creatures and hope and beauty, not quite realizing that his companion had fallen asleep on him until he felt her head lean against his shoulder. His voice came to an abrupt stop. The Doctor frowned and started to ask, "Clara…?" though the name died in his throat once he caught sight of the small brunette.

Her eyes were closed, her chest was rising in deep, even breaths – in other words, she was fast asleep. The Doctor should have been annoyed – if anything, just a bit disappointed in Clara's current state of consciousness.

However, there was something about Clara that couldn't keep the Doctor upset with the situation. A small smile played on his lips instead, and he simply wrapped a protective arm around Clara's shoulders, though he was careful not to wake her. "Goodnight, Clara," he murmured quietly, sneaking in a small, light kiss on the top of her head. "I'll be here in the morning."

* * *

**A/N - I think we all need a Doctor to cuddle with. Or keep us safe. Or something. That'd be nice. I want a Pocket Doctor. Now. GAH. **

**Reviews are great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not. **


	38. Rhythm

**...my feels are just...I can't even...****_Listen _****was beautiful. Stunning. And most of all, painful. Of course. (I sobbed throughout the entire scene where Clara was with kid!Doctor. Gosh. Ow. I just...****_owww._**** AND THE PART WHERE CLARA JUST HUGS TWELVE SDKFJDFDFDSFD AAAH.) **

**Clearly, my Whoufleé/Whouffaldi feels are still working. :) **

* * *

**Rhythm**

As Clara's head remained on the Doctor's chest, she realized two things –

One, the Doctor was a warm person to cuddle against.

Two, the Doctor had the oddest heartbeat. Then again, Clara supposed he couldn't do much about that – he had two hearts, after all. There was a queer, unique rhythm to his heartbeat – two hearts working in unison, working in _harmony_, one beating after the other.

It took a few days (possibly weeks) for Clara to get used to the new rhythm of the Doctor's heartbeat, but she quickly came to realize that she loved hearing it through his chest every time she rested herself against him. The rhythm of his two hearts working together quickly became the sound of familiarity – the sound of safety – the sound of love.

* * *

**A/N - Simple and sappy. XD **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	39. Shirt

**WOW I'm only taking a two minute break to update my stories because of the homework-and-study load piled on top of me. (I just found out that I was going to have four exams coming up this week, all on the SAME DAY. And then a history test next week. Not to mention a boatload of homework and reviewing the notes I took TODAY. WHAT IS THIS LIFE.) Basically, I was sitting in class and thinking, ****_how the heck am I supposed to update my stories with all this ish piling up on my plate? DON'T YOU KNOW I WANT TO WRITE INSTEAD OF THIS STUFF?! _**

**So here I am. XD **

* * *

**Shirt**

The first and last thing the Doctor e_ver _left in Clara's room was his shirt. Not the shirt he had been wearing the night before, of course, but a different shirt – a shirt that was worn and patched, but still the Doctor's shirt. Clara had spent the night in the same bed of the Doctor (and no, nothing _intimate _happened, though the two spent a considerable amount simply wrapping their clothing-clad bodies against each other,) and during that night, the brunette had brought up the fact of how much she liked the smell of the Doctor's shirt.

"My shirt?" The Doctor had asked, amused and surprised. Clara bobbed her head into a nod. "Uh-huh," she murmured into his shoulder. "Your shirt – it smells like you."

"So…you're indirectly telling me that you like the smell of _me_," the Doctor said in a tone that Clara couldn't quite figure out. She lifted her head to look up at his green-brown eyes. "Are you making fun of me?" She asked, lifting a suspicious eyebrow. The Doctor quickly shook his head. "No, of course not," he replied.

Clara planted her elbows on the Doctor's chest, fighting the urge to smile at him. (It really _was _hard.) "Because you _do _know what'll be in store for you if you displease me," she said softly.

The Doctor grinned, his weak eyebrows jumping to his hairline. "An angry kissing session?" He asked hopefully. Clara had slapped her hand playfully against his chest. "Well, aren't you eager," she teased lightly, pushing herself off the bed. "But angry kissing sessions are supposed to be saved for other events. You know, when we're actually _angry _and _incredibly _–"

"Got it, got it," the Doctor replied, grinning. He, too, stood up from the bed and started to search for his tweed. Clara had ducked into the bathroom to execute her daily shower, but when she came back out, the Doctor was gone. Typical – it was Thursday and he didn't always stay for more than a day.

However, Clara was surprised to find that in the Doctor's place, a dress-shirt was sitting on the bed. She sat down on the bed and gathered the shirt to her chest, wondering who this possibly belonged to – that is, until she took a quick whiff of the fabric.

And that was when she knew – the mix of something old, something new…something fresh, something musty all rolled into a single smell belonged to no one other than the Doctor.

"The smell of your shirt," Clara murmured to herself, and allowed herself a small, tiny giggle. She shot a glance around the room, as though someone could have heard the small, traitorous reveal of girlish dreams. When realizing that there was no one to report on her or watch, she buried her face delicately into the shirt, taking in a deep breath.

She was glad to have a bit of the Doctor to carry around with her.

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**A/N - I added a bit of mature humor in this bit, but I hope it wasn't anything too bad. XD **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not! (And boy, oh boy, I can't wait for Friday to come around. XD)**


	40. Morbid

**I CAN'T BELIEVE I FINISHED ALL MY HOMEWORK WITHIN AN HOUR! RECORD-BREAKER! (Then again, I got home early, so...) Now, just to study for a ton of exams and work on my history outline! *blinks and groans into pillow* Thank Gallifrey that the next break will be in a week. **

* * *

**Morbid**

Death was…a morbid thing to talk about, especially since it was constantly knocking on the Doctor's door. The Doctor could just _see _death (as if it was a tangible thing) lurking around the corners. He hadn't always been one to really pay attention to those things as a child – he never _liked _the idea of dying, even back then. The Doctor remembered how relieved he was when his parents (his parents – it's been a while since he's _ever _thought of them…) told him that Time Lords and Ladies had a trick to cheat death.

But humans didn't.

And as morbid as death was, the Doctor couldn't help but keep thinking about it – again, he saw signs of it almost everywhere. No matter where he went, the very _threat _of a life being taken away hovered over the Doctor like a dark, ominous cloud.

As the Doctor watched his wife play with his daughter in her bedroom, a small idea started to form in his mind – he needed to keep his family safe. He would never, ever, _ever _allow death to take them away from him. He _couldn't. _He would _have _to keep them…somewhere. Somewhere where they wouldn't be in the constant threat of danger.

And the Doctor was, sadly, a source of it.

* * *

**A/N - Only ten more days of this story, doods! I know I should probably wait for the end of this story, but just know that I am _very _grateful for all of the support that you've shown me. If you were here since I first started this story or if you were here just today, just know that I am _very, very _thankful. :') **


	41. Give Me Five Minutes, Okay?

_**Chapter forty-one. Wow. **_**I don't think I've ever gotten so far in a ****_Doctor Who _****story before...(then again, I've only written one other ****_Doctor Who _****story and it's still progressing, so...ha. XD Never mind.) **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

**"Give Me Five Minutes, Okay?" **

Clara Oswald's first reaction to seeing the Doctor standing outside of her house was slamming the door in his face. Once she did so, she whirled away on her heel and stormed away from the foyer. She ignored the constant ringing of the doorbell and knocking, even when Taylor started asking who was standing at the door.

"Why all the racket, Mum?" The teenager asked curiously, glancing at her mother. "I'm trying to do my homework – you might as well tell that person to leave or something, or that he or she's got the wrong house."

Clara simply started to look through the newspapers. "Ha," she muttered. "I wish."

Taylor lifted an eyebrow, looking so much like her father that it sent a stab of pain through Clara's heart. "Why? Is it someone you know?" She asked slowly and exactly at that moment, the Doctor chose to shout through the door, "_Clara! Please _don't force me to unlock the door with the sonic! I can do that, you know!"

Clara cringed as Taylor's mouth dropped open. "It's Dad!" Taylor shrieked, pushing herself from the table. Clara brought her hands to her face, resisting the urge to groan. "Yes, Taylor, I know," Clara murmured tiredly. Taylor glanced apprehensively at the door and then, her voice in a low whisper, she asked, "Are you gonna answer the door?"

"I'm not quite sure I get a choice in that matter, seeing that your father already threatened to unlock the door," Clara murmured and sure enough, seconds later, the front door flung open, revealing the Doctor in the doorway.

The Doctor had remained heart-wrenchingly unchanged over the course of five years – his hair was just as floppy and cheerful as usual, his eyes as wider than ever in the same, lovable, green-brown hue that Clara had been so smitten with when she was still traveling with the Doctor.

The silence that filled the house after the Doctor's entrance was tense and choking. After a few moments, the Doctor said weakly, "Taylor…you've _grown_."

Clara's head snapped violently to their daughter – no, _her _daughter…the Doctor stopped being Taylor's father five years ago, when he _left _them. Taylor, to Clara's (sickening) relief, seemed to be thinking something along the same lines of her mother. She regarded the Doctor with cold eyes and replied, "Well, you know – you can't really expect me to remain the same height." She lifted her hands. "I was…what, ten years old? I've had another growth spurt." Taylor cleared her throat and stuck her hands in her pockets. She flicked a glance at Clara and said more to her than the Doctor, "I'm gonna go up and get some homework done – Mr. Lloyd assigned a _truckload _of homework over the weekend and I want to get all of it done tonight so I won't have to worry about it over the weekend."

Clara nodded, pressing her lips together in a tight smile. "Sounds like a good idea, sweetie – call me if you want me to quiz you on anything, alright?"

Taylor nodded and not even doing so much as looking over at the Doctor, walked out of the room. The Doctor didn't speak until the sound of Taylor's bedroom door being closed from upstairs. "I…guess I should explain what I'm doing here," he started awkwardly. He gave Clara a pleading look. "Just…give me five minutes, okay?"

"Five minutes," Clara confirmed icily. She planted a hand on the kitchen table, while the other one was placed firmly over her hip. "There ought to be _some _sort of reason for showing up at our doorstep after…five and a half years."

The Doctor's shoulders rounded over. "I know. I'm…_sorry _about that. I really am," he added hurriedly at Clara's skeptical look. "I was just…trying to make sure that you and Taylor would be _safer _here."

"_Safer here?_" Clara asked, outraged. "Without a warning? You just _dropped us off _at a house and told us that this was ours – and by ours, I thought you meant _ours!_ You, Taylor, and me! Not just Taylor and me – not just the two of us all alone!"

The Doctor rubbed his temples tiredly. "I'm _sorry," _he repeated, pained. "I just…thought that it'd be better for Taylor and _you _to…stay away from me for a while."

Clara glared. "Why would you think something like that?" When the Doctor didn't reply immediately, she went on, "How long is it going to take for you to understand that we're safer with _you_, Doctor? Taylor didn't know _anything _about other people when we first started living here – do you _know _how hard it was for her?" She threw her hands up in the air. "I mean, she's got good grades and everything, but she spent most of the five years here trying to _fit in. _She _still _doesn't have a ton of friends – she's _still _considered to be one of the strangest kids in the school – do you know how hard that is for us?"

Clara jabbed an accusing finger at the Doctor. "And did _you _ever try to visit us? Or see us? Or even drop a hint that you were still looking over us? _No_ – instead, you were going off…traveling, doing whatever, and having the time of your life." She said indignantly.

"I _wasn't,_" the Doctor shot back. Clara felt her anger flare. She lowered her voice into a dangerous whisper, "Excuse me?"

"I wasn't" the Doctor said. "I wasn't having the time of my life or traveling – I was sitting in the TARDIS…waiting…waiting for the right moment to come out. I was trying to see how long I could keep you away – I wanted to make sure that you…or Taylor would never get caught in the crossfire, never get lost or left behind because of something that _I _would do." He took a small breath. "I _needed _you two to be safe – so you won't be…dug up in a grave somewhere. I don't want to be the person standing over your grave. Or Taylor's." His eyes were beginning to glaze over with tears – Clara felt her heart soften against her will. The Doctor rubbed his hands over his eyes. "I…couldn't even keep away for five years," the Doctor said pathetically. "I tried staying in the TARDIS – got lost a few times…" His voice drifted off. "But…now I'm back here."

He stared down at Clara. "So…please? Can we go back to the start? Try again?"

Clara felt her bones slowly loosen. She drew out a long, deep breath and lifted a hand to the Doctor's cheek. The Doctor welcomed the gesture – he grasped Clara's hand and rubbed it gently against his face, his eyes fluttering to a close. "Let's try again," she whispered. She stood at the tops of her toes, resting her chin on the Doctor's shoulder. "But please, please, _please _don't send me away again – don't send _Taylor _away again. Please?"

The Doctor's eyes opened, and this time, they were clear and shining and sincere. "I promise I won't send you…or Taylor away again," he replied in a low voice. He pressed a soft kiss to Clara's forehead. "Better?"

Clara let out a small laugh – the first real laugh that she had released in a while. "Better."

* * *

**A/N - I just felt like the Doctor would do something like this - leave Clara and Taylor because he wanted to keep them safe. (He did that with Rory and Amy, too...so why wouldn't the Doctor do it to his wife and daughter?) **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not! **


	42. Coffin

**...the only thing I need to say is I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. **

* * *

**Coffin**

It should be a crime for a child to die before his or her parents. It wasn't right – it wasn't supposed to happen. _Ever_. And it certainly wasn't supposed to happen to Taylor Oswald. It wasn't supposed to happen to a girl who finally reached adulthood – it wasn't supposed to happen, it wasn't supposed to happen, it wasn't supposed to happen…

Those three words repeated over and over in Clara's head like a panicky mantra – she couldn't bring herself to think anything else. She was trembling in front of her daughter's coffin. The coffin was open, so it would reveal Taylor's face.

The young girl – woman – child – Clara couldn't call Taylor anything but that – looked peaceful. Then again, doesn't every person look peaceful in death?

Taylor's slender hands were clasped in front of herself – her hair was let down, so it would frame her face. Perhaps it was Clara's imagination, but she was sure that there was a small smile on her daughter's lips – almost as though she had gone to death unafraid.

That thought brought Clara _some _comfort…though she wished that Taylor had never gone to it in the first place.

Clara felt a pair of familiar, warm arms wrap around her shoulders. She didn't need to look up to know that it was the Doctor – and she didn't need to feel him to know that he was shaking just as hard as herself. She didn't need to check if he was crying – because Clara _knew _that he was.

Tears were streaming down both parent's faces, hands clasped together and silently wishing that there was _some _way to avoid this. But no, Clara and the Doctor stood over the coffin and watched it being lowered into the ground. Clara clung to her husband tightly as the dirt was slowly piled over the coffin.

When the time came, the Doctor and Clara took their turns to throw the dirt over the coffin. Again, it felt _wrong. _Just _wrong. _

Slowly, the guests at the funeral (only a few of Taylor's friends from the time she spent traveling with her parents and Clara's father,) walked away from the graveyard, leaving Clara and the Doctor alone to mourn.

"I was supposed to keep her _safe_," the Doctor whispered. Clara squeezed the Doctor's hands. "We _both _were," she corrected shakily. "It's not your fault – you did…everything you could…" Her voice drifted weakly as the threat of tears flared again. She choked out a small sob and buried her head in the Doctor's shoulder.

And for a long time, the Doctor let her. He planted his head over her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her middle. The two stood there – over their daughter's grave.

Over the death that should have never happened.

Over the crime that should have never been committed.

* * *

**A/N - I don't really know how well-liked Taylor was, but I kind of planned for her to die at one point, anyways. And have a little chapter about Clara and the Doctor remaining together even AFTER their daughter dies. I know how tons of parents split up after an accident with a child and it always breaks my heart - not only is the child dead, but the parents both break and collapse which I find very, very tragic. **

**But Clara and the Doctor aren't normal parents, are they? **

**Reviews are always great - constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not. **


	43. Shoes

**Two minutes to update, Caroline. ****_Two minutes to update. _****I can't believe that my teachers decided to assign me homework over the weekend...like ****_why_****?! So this is why I'm going to be doing ****_all of my weekend homework tonight _****and then do some flipping ****_Pilates _****so I can relax. (Yes, I do Pilates. Let me just tell you - it can be ****_very, very painful _****sometimes.) **

**That's enough of my bitter rant. I was kind of inspired by ****_Cinderella, _****so...enjoy! **

* * *

**Shoes**

Wearing high heels that were too large for Clara's feet was a bad idea – and she knew it, even when she started walking around in them. She supposed she should have thought twice about the shoes and the problem that might erupt if she was to actually wear them. However, Clara was too distracted to really think the entire situation through. She was going to Paris 1500s with the Doctor – and she wanted to be dressed to the nines. Heels, apparently, were still in fashion – and Clara decided to choose the tallest and prettiest pair of heels, even though they were large.

But now, as Clara ran down the steps of one of the buildings with the Doctor, she was wishing _again _that she hadn't chosen shoes this big. "Doctor, they're falling – oh, dash it all!" Clara muttered as one of her heels popped off her foot. She came to an abrupt stop and immediately bent down to grab the heel.

"No, hold on!" The Doctor said quickly, and tugged the heel away from Clara's hands. The brunette stared up at the Doctor, eyebrows lifted. "What?" She asked. "I need to wear them, in case you haven't noticed!"

The Doctor grinned. "I know, I know," he said patiently. "But there's something that I need to do."

With those words said, the Doctor bowed down on a knee and held the shoe out in front of Clara. "Milady," he said lightly. Clara smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. "What is this? _Cinderella_?" She asked, puzzled. The Doctor's eyes shone as he replied, "Would you like it to be?"

"Not quite sure," Clara said. "I was more of a _Robin Hood _lover than _Cinderella_…" Her voice trailed off as she placed a thoughtful hand under her chin. "But I suppose I can make an exception for tonight."

The Doctor smiled up at Clara and presented the shoe to her. Clara giggled softly under her breath and elegantly pushed her foot into the heel. The Doctor spent a few seconds to make sure that the heel was secure (or at least, as secure as an over-sized shoe can get).

When the shoe was properly pressed against her foot, the Doctor stood up and stretched out his arm. "Shall we go?" He asked, beaming at Clara.

Clara grinned and curtsied. "Of course, my good sir," she replied sweetly.

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**A/N - See? _Cinderella, _even though I liked _Beauty and the Beast _better. XD **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not. **


	44. Drop

**It's ****_Saturday. _****Thank ****_goodness_**** - I was getting tired of the week...and I have a short school week next week, too! *dances* I just need to get past the fact that my teachers are giving me tests during that short week. Ugh. But for now, I'm going to enjoy some Whoufleé and ****_The Parent Trap. _****(Oh, I ****_do _****love happy endings...Nick and Lizzie are adorable together. I want a relationship like that. XD) **

**Enjoy! **

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**Drop**

When the Doctor saw Clara stumble out of the crowd of people emerging from the mist of the ocean, he wanted to jump for joy and thank whatever God was out there, watching. When the Doctor saw Clara help a few people get back to their feet even when she was still in a bad condition, he wanted to weep and hold onto his Impossible Girl forever.

When the Doctor saw Clara drop down to the ground, he didn't do anything but immediately walk up to her side and scoop her up in his arms. Carrying Clara Oswald was an effortless task – she didn't weigh much and she didn't struggle. In fact, she seemed to welcome the gesture – she immediately curled herself around the Doctor's arms and planted her head firmly against his chest, sighing contentedly as he pulled her away from the group of people.

It wasn't until they were in the TARDIS did Clara actually speak.

"Don't…drop me." She mumbled.

The Doctor smiled, planting a small kiss on her forehead. "I wouldn't drop you for the world," he replied.

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**A/N - Reviews are always appreciated! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not. **


	45. Crown

_**Time Heist was perfect omg Whouffaldi is real do you hear me Whouffaldi is flipping real! **_**I'm serious - "beat that for a date" and the adorable little foot-pop the Doctor did? GAAH! *flails and drowns in a puddle of Whouffaldi* And who else is still laughing over "shuttety up up up"?! 'Cause I DIED. XD **

**I can't wait for ****_The Caretaker _****- omigosh, I ****_swear _****something even more Whouffaldi-like is gonna happen. And Danny is gonna be awesome. AND CLARA IS GONNA GO CRAZY 'CAUSE TO HER, I BET IT'S LIKE TWO WORLDS CLASHING AT THE SAME TIME BWAHAHAHAHA OH DEAR **

**Aand I'm done. XD Enjoy! **

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**Crown**

The children of Naboo were sweet, innocent little creatures. They had faces of multiple skin colors, had eyes that were all equally wide and curious, had smiles and laughs that sounded cheerful and happy. And if that wasn't enough, they seemed rather intent on letting Clara and the Doctor know that they were the queen and king of fairies.

It was a silly game, of course, but Clara didn't care – she played along, smiling and singing and dancing with the children. "Fairy queen, fairy queen!" the children trilled delightfully. They took the Doctor's hands and pulled him into the little circle of dance. It was funny, to be honest – the Doctor dancing awkwardly (and beautifully at the same time…) amongst the group of children and not giving a care in the world that he looked silly and childish.

"You look like the king and queen of fairies," a child said thoughtfully later that day. They were all laid back against the wet grass, staring up at the lazy wisps of cloud make their way across the bright sky. Clara and the Doctor both flicked humored looks at each other before looking down at the child who had spoken.

"Really?" Clara asked, propping herself up on her elbows. The child nodded. "The fairy queen and king are s'pposed to be happy people, y'see," she said. "And I think you two are just that. Happy."

"Well, we certainly do try," Clara replied. The child beamed up at Clara. "Good," the youth said. "Trying to be happy is a good thing." She bounced up to her feet and turned to her friends, who were now weaving little bracelets out of flowers and weeds. The child's face lit up with such a brilliant smile that Clara couldn't help but to feel another surge of affection for her.

The next words that the child spoke, however, was something of a surprise.

"Everyone, we have to make the fairy king and queen crowns!" The child said.

Before Clara and the Doctor could object, the children all clambered to their feet and started nodding joyously at this idea. "Crowns, crowns, crowns!" they cheered. "Of course!" And so they got to work – Clara and the Doctor watched with a mix of awe and bewilderment as they all scrambled around to gather enough flowers and grasses to tie up a messy pair of crowns.

"The flowers are jewels and precious gems," the child reasoned as she looked down at the crowns. She held them up and narrowing her eyes, added, "And the grasses are really fine threads of silver and gold." She turned back to Clara and the Doctor, smiling cheerfully. "And now, these crowns will be given to the two of you."

The Doctor let out a small laugh, though, squeezing Clara's hand, he bent down on his knees. Biting back the urge to laugh at the simplicity of it all, the brunette took after his example. She bowed her head and closed her eyes as the child carefully adjusted the handmade 'crown' over her head. She could hear the rustle of leaves from the Doctor's 'crown' being placed atop of his head as well.

"I present to you the king and queen of fairies!" The child announced, turning to her friends. Clara's eyes opened and the first thing she did was look over at the Doctor. A smile twitched at her lips and she said lightly, "Well, my lord, whatever shall we do, since we were just made the king and queen of fairyland?"

"I believe a dance is to take place now," the Doctor replied, sounding just as teasing and playful. He extended his hands. "What say you, my dear queen?"

Clara giggled, burying her head in the Doctor's shoulder, earning themselves a happy roll of sighs from the children. "I think that's a perfectly fine idea." She whispered.

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**A/N - I'm actually wrapped up with this story now - I finished the last five chapters on Friday night...whoops. O.O But I hope you all will enjoy this to the very end. :) **

**As always, reviews would be nice! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not! (Oh, and if you got the _Star Wars _reference in this story, high five! XD)**


	46. Last

**Who else is totally happy that autumn is officially here? 'Cause all I can think about is cozy sweaters and scarves and beanies and pumpkins and apple pie and cinnamon and kicking up autumn leaves and a new Taylor Swift album. (Please don't insult me about my Taylor Swift obsession!) **

**Sadly, this drabble has nothing to do with autumn. Sorry! I hope ya'll enjoy it, anyways! **

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**Last **

This was the last time.

This was the _last time. _

Who did the Doctor think he was? What did the Doctor even think of whenever Clara was around? Did he think she was some sort of weak, simple fairy-tale loving girl? Because right now, she could just tell the Doctor that she was anything _but _a weak, simple fairy-tale girl. She was _not _that kind of girl who allowed a man to drag her around or do something first.

This was the last time that Clara Oswald was going to allow the Doctor to kiss her first.

And she was going to let him know that.

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**A/N - Reviews would be nice! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!**


	47. Into the Firing Line

**Guess who gave herself another five minutes to update a story? *waves hand frantically* Ugh, I swear school is going to be the bane of my very existence. -.- **

**Enjoy! **

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**Into the Firing Line**

The sound of a gunshot was the last thing Clara wanted to hear today. She was already aching all over from running all over the TARDIS, _fleeing _from a pack of genetically-enhanced wolves in a maze, and trying to keep up with the Doctor in the wild, tangled forest outside of the facility that they had been trapped in.

And now, here she was, listening to her own shrill, horrified screams after hearing a gunshot go off. And it wasn't any old gunshot – it wasn't aimed at a tree or an animal.

Instead, it was aimed at the Doctor, who had been standing deliberately in front of the gun – right into the firing line. Clara still wasn't sure _why _he had volunteered himself – he had said that he had a plan, but she couldn't understand how the Doctor's _death _could have anything to do with it.

Clara's hands had clapped over her eyes when she heard the gunshot, too – she didn't want to see the Doctor drowning in a puddle of blood, legs mangled together and eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling…no, no, no, that image couldn't scar her mind just yet.

But still, Clara couldn't help but to allow her shaking hands to slide away from her face – the room had gone too quiet after the gunshot. There weren't any shouts, any cruel, harsh laughs…

Only silence.

Clara watched with a sinking heart as the executioner started to pocket his gun, looking almost _satisfied _with his work. She wanted to scream at him – punch him, kick him, maybe even _shoot _him for doing something as awful as taking away the life of the Doctor's.

But why wasn't the Doctor making any noise? Was he gone already? Was he…was he clinging onto a last thread of life? Was he simply holding back any cries…? _God, no, Clara, don't you _dare _think about that! No, no, no, no, no, don't think, don't think, don't think, don't think…_

She blinked open her eyes and…the Doctor was sitting up. He wore an ecstatic, cheerful smile on his face, as though nothing was wrong at all. He was stretching his arms out, wringing out his legs and in other words…acting _normal_, which Clara couldn't understand.

"Wait a minute – you were…the gun…" Her voice drifted as the Doctor beamed at her. "Thought you could get rid of me that easily?" he asked, straightening his jacket. "No, no, I wasn't ever going to get shot – I just made myself a little arrangement with the captain here," he pointed at the man who had put the gun in his pocket. The man looked up and gave Clara a halfhearted nod.

"Oh, ah," she said faintly. Her heart was still thudding loudly against her chest, just _dying _to get out.

And that was when it snapped into place. The Doctor _was still alive –_ and he didn't have a single gunshot. At all.

"_Ugh!_" Clara shouted, stomping her foot. She thrust her fist into the Doctor's shoulder indignantly. "I thought you were _dead!_" She repeated the punching process, not even stopping when the Doctor protested, "Ow! It was part of the plan – I told you – ow, stop it! I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive!"

"Don't e_ver _do that again!" Clara could only shout.

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**A/N - Because we all know that the Doctor can be *somewhat* misleading. XD **

**Reviews are great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not!**


	48. Curse

**I got this idea after my friends asked why the heck I always said "****_for Gallifrey's sake" _****or "****_kriffin' hell!" _****or ****_"poodoo" _****as swears instead of...*insert long list of swears* Now, to be honest, I ****_do _****use some "regular/non-fangirl" swears, though only when the situation is ****_really, really, reeeeally bad. _****Like, ****_blowing-up-Gallifrey bad. _**

**But anyways...you don't need to know about my potty mouth! :P This idea bloomed - enjoy!**

* * *

**Curse**

It always amused Clara Oswald to hear the Doctor _cursing _– mostly because it was never anything serious. Actually, most of the time, his version of cursing only consisted of silly words and protests jumbled together in a large mess. So when Clara heard the Doctor shouting, "_Holy mother-of-fish-sticks!_", it wasn't much of a surprise.

"Why does your boyfriend always say those weird things?" Angie Maitland asked, shooting Clara an annoyed glare after the Doctor repeated his own little phrases.

"It's because it's better than the useless profanity that people your age say these days," Clara replied loftily, opening up her laptop. Angie rolled her eyes and said, "Your boyfriend is your perfect match – you two are _weird._"

Clara smiled fondly at the Doctor as he ran into the kitchen, wiping machine oil from his hair. He looked absolutely ridiculous.

"Yes, well…it's a good kind of weird," she said quietly to herself.

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**A/N - Reviews are great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not!**


	49. Whispers

***sings at the top of my lungs* ****_ONE DAY MORE..._****(I've been watching a lot of ****_Les Mis _****lately - mostly because I've had the strangest desire for tragedy and friendship and heroes and romance. *blinks* Wait, then why didn't I watch ****_Doctor Who? _****Or ****_Star Wars? _****Or ****_Merlin? _****Or ****_Harry Potter? _****Ah, well. XD) **

**Enjoy! **

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**Whispers**

The whispers in the dark were the whispers that brought Clara Oswald out of her nightmares. She would wake up, her throat hoarse and swollen from the numerous screams she had uttered in her sleep. Her entire body would be trembling with violent shivers and her face and neck would be sticky with sweat.

The whispers, the whispers, the whispers…they crawled over her in the night and drowned her in little demons that she couldn't see – those nightmares had occurred ever since Clara was taken out of the Doctor's time-stream. She was grateful that she had gotten out of the ordeal alive, but the nightmares that haunted her afterward was something that she didn't look forward to.

What was even worse was that whenever Clara woke up, there was no one there to actually console her back into sleep. She would have to wait for sleep to settle in – something that always took hours to do.

So you can imagine the surprise Clara felt when she spotted the Doctor in her bed when she woke from her nightmare. She drew in a quick breath and pushed herself from the bed in shock. The Doctor, however, was ready for the reaction. His arm slid out from underneath the blankets and though Clara automatically started to squirm away, he held on tight. "It's alright, Clara," he said quietly. "It's just me."

Clara closed her eyes and brought her head down on the pillow, which was damp. "What are you doing here?" She whispered.

"I thought you were scared," the Doctor replied. "And I…decided to come. Just in case you woke up."

Clara let out a low, shuddery breath and said, "Well…you're here now. Nothing I can do about that, I suppose."

A small smile appeared on the Doctor's face and he stretched out his arms. Clara didn't even take another second to think before sinking into his chest. She nestled her head in the space between his neck and shoulder, her arms and hands tucked neatly against their chests. She let out a small breath and nestled herself closer into the Doctor.

Perhaps her nightmares weren't totally gone, but they would do for now.

* * *

**A/N - Post-_NoTD, _of course. ****Oh, and tip - when writing for a certain pairing, always look up playlists for that pairing on tumblr. It works wonders! My favorite Whoufleé playlists at the moment are called _Down, boy _and _We all Change. __Down, boy _is more of the darker, more intense parts of Whoufleé, whereas _We all Change _is just _angst, angst, angst and feels. Gah. _**

**Reviews are great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not!**


	50. Family

**So...here we are, the last chapter. I just want to say now that this has been great - thank you so much for all of your wonderful support and welcoming me into the fandom. :) **

**And...for this last chapter, I decided to give the Doctor and Clara this kind of ending for this story. They deserved it. Enjoy! **

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**Family**

Going back to visit Taylor Oswald was something that both Clara and the Doctor were dreading. They didn't want to, especially since it was after her death. But today was a special day, and they wanted to get one final glimpse of her before they would make one, last trip together.

Holding the Doctor's hand, Clara walked into the teenager's bedroom. Taylor was hunched over her desk, concentrating on an essay set out before her. "Hey, Mom," she said without looking over her shoulder. "I thought you said you'd be back in an hour."

Clara felt as though something was pushing itself into her throat. She cleared it (with difficulty) and squeezed the Doctor's hand tighter. "I forgot my jacket," she said, trying to control the shakiness in her voice. "And uh –"

"Your jacket?" Taylor asked, and this time, she turned around. Immediately, her mouth dropped open. "Dad!" She grinned, immediately scooting off the seat. "You're back again! How are you? Gosh, one week is too long, don't you think?" Not waiting for a proper answer from the Doctor, she flung her arms around his neck and held him tight.

Clara was fairly sure that the Doctor was going to fall dead to his feet right there and then, though he managed to wrap his arms around his daughter. "Hello, Taylor!" He said enthusiastically, though Clara could tell from the simple look in his eyes that he was sad – empty – scared for what was to come. "I'm fine – one week is too long – what are you doing now?"

"Homework," Taylor grimaced, sticking out her tongue. "I was going to do it earlier, but then I got sidetracked by some friends and now I'm practically tearing my _hair _out over this stupid thing." She flicked a hand at the papers indignantly. "Gosh, Dad, d'you think we can go back in time and try to change the person who made up to homework and –"

"_No, _Taylor," the Doctor said, quickly switching gears. "We are _not _allowed to use the TARDIS for that sort of thing. Besides, think of all the _good _things that come out of homework! And studying! And –"

"_You _said that it was a perfectly good waste of time when I was a kid," Taylor interrupted loftily. "That was why you and Mom didn't want me to go to public school in the first place." She threw her hands up in the air and imitated, "_Oh, no, Taylor will be much better here, Clara! Who needs boring old school, anyways? The only things they learn there is how to do sums and read and drive themselves insane! Taylor would be better off here!_"

Both Clara and the Doctor laughed, though they knew that the other's heart(s) were/was panging with nostalgia – this was something that they missed. Bantering with their daughter. Talking of what she was like when she was a child. Being able to smile and laugh with her and not worry about what fate might have in store for her.

Oh, what they would do to get those days back…

"Enough of homework, then," the Doctor said, pushing away the papers. "Let's just all go on a trip, yeah? You, Mom, and me – we'll all go in the TARDIS and have a family vacation."

Taylor's face brightened considerably. "Really?"

Clara leaned against the Doctor's shoulder. "Really," she replied quietly.

Taylor grinned and she brought her parents in for a hug. "Thanks!" She said happily and separating from her parents, quickly sprinted down the stairs, undoubtedly to take first dibs on where to go in the TARDIS.

Clara looked up at the Doctor, who was now wiping a few tears away from his eyes. He looked down at his wife and murmured, "This is…a different experience, isn't it?" Clara smiled sadly and planted her chin on his shoulder. "Don't worry," she replied softly. "We'll get through this. Just like we've always had."

Her hand reached down and interlocked the fingers into the Doctor's hand.

The Doctor let out a weak laugh and brushing a small kiss on her forehead, whispered, "Exactly what I need."

* * *

**A/N - Might as well reunite the family because isn't that how love ends? You begin with a family, end with a family...**

**Again, thank you so much for this adventure. It's been an honor. :') Luv you all!**


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